The Paneau Saga: Guidance
by Sile Crowley
Summary: Taking place after the conclusion of The Legacy of Paneau, this new adventure follows reformed mercenary Horatio Sheridan as he faces one of his toughest personal challenges yet. His son Wil Rys'tihn has taught him a great deal about himself over the past few years, but can he accept help from the most unlikely of sources, or is he still his own worst enemy?
1. Chapter 1

The crowded, casually bustling halls of the Corellian med center only made him more nervous as he navigated through them. He felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and not just because he imagined the gaze of every present being on him. He was panicked, and he was late; he had even contemplated not returning at all...but only felt that much more guilty for the thought.

Horatio Sheridan's heart pounded harder and harder against his chest wall the longer his search continued. It shouldn't have been so hard to find one of a handful of twi'leks within the center, even less so to find the rare rutian beauty he had called his partner for the past three years. He was so out of his element in such a public, reputable place that he almost walked straight past her dark, quiet room. The familiar rich turquoise hue of her skin caught his attention like a homing signal, forcing him to backpedal and stand frozen in place outside the door.

Even through the darkness, Wyliaa's skin glowed with subtle radiance as he fixated on her. He could no longer feel his own heartbeat, certain his heart had refused to continue working until he made his final decision. She appeared to be peacefully sleeping, curled up on her side in the comfortable, modest bed, so she wouldn't notice him standing there, hesitating.

Nor would she have known if he had, in that moment, instead decided to leave.

Fear and uncertainty, the same worries that had paralyzed him before, continued to eat away at him for moments on end, forcing him to remind himself to breathe. He had only so reluctantly agreed to this months ago, and now that it was real, he struggled to come to terms with it. He swallowed hard to steel his nerves; he couldn't feel more unprepared.

Eventually, his legs slowly carried him forward without a conscious command from him, drawing him to Liaa's side as he always had been. She was so quiet and still under a heavy blanket that disguised her form, and it strangely made him fear the worst though he already knew otherwise. He stood at her bedside silently for a few tender moments, reaching out and delicately tracing his fingers down her bare right lek. He couldn't bring himself to rouse her from her deep sleep she so clearly needed, and his anxiety again threatened to choke him; he questioned himself and his decision for the thousandth time...

"Dad..."

Turning toward the familiar voice he wasn't expecting to hear, Horatio saw his son Wil at the other end of the darkened room, carefully cradling a bundle of blankets in his arms. Wil smiled warmly as he lifted his chin to beckon his father to his side instead, and with another gentle brush of his fingers on Liaa's cheek, Horatio obliged.

Wil's gaze followed him as he made his way across the room, and though Horatio knew exactly who Wil was holding, he still had a hard time believing his eyes. His breath left him as he looked down on the silent newborn girl, a rush of emotions he could hardly process overtaking him.

"Here she is," Wil whispered, beaming up at him with the pride of an elated big brother as he turned and presented the girl to Horatio. Despite the dim lighting, Horatio found himself absolutely enchanted by the girl's vibrant blue- and pink-mottled skin, uniquely patterned around her face and patched throughout her lekku. Her ear cones were delicate and far less pronounced than her mother's, as were her lekku, expected characteristics of a human/twi'lek hybrid. The longer he looked on her, the more she took his breath away as an unfamiliar feeling warmed him to his core. He'd never before experienced such an onslaught, such a mind-numbing mix of exhilaration and panic, but he'd also never had a newborn daughter before.

Wil had been introduced to him when he was already eighteen years old, grown up well beyond any influence his father could have over him. But now Horatio had this brand new life to nurture; was he ready to be a father again? Could he be the father she needed when he'd never even known his own parents? Would she like him, respect him, or would she want nothing to do with him?

Sensing his father's internal turmoil, Wil continued softly. "Liaa did great. She hardly even needed any help from the medics."

Grateful for the distraction from his thoughts that were taking over, Horatio glanced behind himself at the new mother who was still soundly sleeping. "...is she okay?"

Wil grinned with a soft laugh. "She's fine, Dad. She's just exhausted. She had a very long day."

Slightly embarrassed at the absurdity of his question in hindsight, Horatio ran a hand through his hair, again returning his attention to the infant girl. Her quiet innocence seemed to be slowly calming him, putting him at ease though he didn't truly understand why. Was he already feeling a connection to her, already so enamored with her because she was his daughter?

Before Horatio could process what was happening, Wil had already begun to shift the bundle in his hold, extending towards him to gently place the girl into Horatio's arms -

"You need to hold her."

"What! No, Wil, I don't - "

\- but in spite of himself, Horatio reflexively received her, trembling slightly with patent nervousness. The sweet girl hardly even stirred as she was passed from brother to father, and settled into Horatio's cradled hold, she even faintly smiled, nearly sapping all of Horatio's strength in that instant.

Wil remained close, though, observing them both silently for a brief moment before securing her blankets even more tightly around her. "See? It's easy. You're a natural; she didn't even squirm. Just keep her head supported," he instructed softly as he tipped Horatio's elbow slightly higher. "There you go, just like that. And as long as she's snuggled and warm, she'll sleep until she's hungry again or needs a change."

The words had already left Horatio's mouth, far harsher than he had intended, before he could stop them. "And what makes _you_ so good with kids?"

The stunned expression on Wil's face lasted only a moment, but deep pangs of regret immediately settled into Horatio's chest. Wil recovered gracefully, though, stepping back from him a bit as he looked to the floor and gathered his thoughts. Beside him, Horatio took in a number of breaths to apologize, but sound never came.

"After my cousin Derek died," Wil explained weakly, "...Uncle Koril took it the hardest. It put him in a coma for two months, and even though he woke up later...he wasn't really there. It was so hard to see him like that; even worse was knowing that it had happened before, Aunt Elena said...back when Mom died.

"They tried everything they could think of to bring him back. All kinds of Jedi meditations and healing sessions, but he was just...lost. It wasn't until they found Cordira's son Jake and brought him to the Retreat that he _finally_ started to respond to us. Something about the boy...calmed him, and brought him peace. Once they realized it was Jake who was helping him improve, Ethan practically moved into the Retreat with him. They spent quite a bit of time with us, even after they brought Cordira home, so...I guess I just picked up a lot of things along the way."

The weight of Wil's words sunk Horatio's heart even further. "Wil... I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

But Wil gave a light smile as he shook his head. "It's okay. The kid helped me, too, while I was recovering. He helped me to forget."

Horatio hardly breathed. "...forget what?"

A distant look in Wil's eyes sent a chill down Horatio's spine.

"Whatever it was that Darkmyre woman did to me."

Lucidia Darkmyre, the deranged Dark Jedi that had besieged Paneau for months in order to abduct Cordira Natiyr, had first taken a transport hostage and sent back six of its passengers encased in carbonite. Wil had been one of those six, Horatio had been told, but Wil hadn't yet spoken about what had happened to him before he was frozen. Moved with compassion for the unspeakable pain his son had obviously endured, Horatio slowly stepped closer to him. "Wil..."

He snapped back to the present as his father neared, shaking his head briefly to dismiss his concern. "She interrogated most of the others on that transport before she got to me. When she figured out that I knew Cordira, she...tortured information out of me with the Force. I can't explain what she did, just that I wanted to forget what I felt, and I wanted to never feel that way again."

With a quick glance down at his daughter to be sure she remained asleep in his arms as they softly spoke, Horatio returned to his son in disbelief. "You never told me..."

A foreign edge sharpened his voice. "I never told anyone, not even Master Natiyr, and _especially_ not you." He hesitated a moment, more reluctant than ever to continue. Shame and guilt were plainly evident on his face, but it was his confession that pained Horatio the most.

"...I didn't want you to know how I'd failed my friend," he breathed, his gaze lowering to the floor. "...and how I'd failed Mom."

"Wil..." Horatio struggled to find his voice. "You survived the wrath of a Dark Jedi. I know _first-hand_ that takes...monumental strength. You didn't fail anyone. Cordira's home safe where she belongs, and so are you. That Darkmyre woman will never hurt you or anyone else ever again."

Though still not appearing to have forgiven himself, Wil nodded slightly to accept his father's assurances. Clearly the young man still shouldered tremendous blame for what he'd been forced to do by the Dark Jedi, and Horatio knew that feeling all too well. He sought a respite from their morose discussion, deciding after a few moments to focus on the good his son had done in his stead.

"I'm glad you were here with Liaa," Horatio continued quietly. "I know she appreciated it, too."

Wil's expression finally lightened as he glanced back toward her bed. "Like I said, she did great. She's tough. But you already knew that."

Horatio nodded, holding his son's gaze with meaning. "Around me, you have to be."

"...'oratio?"

He immediately turned to Liaa's drowsy voice, surprised to see her raising up from her slumber. With their daughter snugly secured in his hold, he softly stepped over to her side, his heartbeat rapidly increasing.

"Right here."

Liaa gave a contented moan of a sigh as she returned to her bed, again settling on her side where she was still able to comfortably look up at Horatio. Her eyes lazily closed as she smiled warmly at him, reaching her hand out to lightly touch his leg. Did she not believe him to be there?

"I zhought zhat I was dreaming when I 'eard your voice."

So she wasn't upset with him for missing their daughter's birth? She should have been...

"I'm sorry I woke you."

Another soft hum from her dismissed his apology. "It was a good reason to be woken up." She looked up at the bundle he held, her smile becoming broader and more radiant. "...isn't she beautiful?"

Horatio swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. "Just like her mother."

"And she is so _strong_ ," Liaa countered with a light laugh, "like 'er fazher. You should 'ave 'eard 'er cries when she was born. You would 'ave zhought zhat she was a few monzh old already."

Though he knew she hadn't done so intentionally, her words drove his guilt through his heart like a vibroblade.

"...I'm sorry, Liaa."

Her eyes lazily closed halfway. "For what?"

"I should have been here with you."

Sensing the gravity in his voice, Liaa became more alert, looking up at him with sleep completely cleared from her eyes. "...did you find 'im?"

He wasn't sure what would be worse, lying to her, or confessing to her that he'd left her at an important time and had returned an empty-handed failure. Her golden amber eyes were so full of care...

"No," he breathed with patent regret. "No, it was old intel. He was long gone."

Liaa immediately began to sit up despite the discomfort it seemed to cause her, reaching up to gently grip Horatio's arm. "Oh, 'oratio... I'm so sorry..." She paused, glancing at the floor briefly in thought before returning to him. "You should go back."

But he shook his head. "What? No - "

"'oratio - "

"No, Liaa. I'm not leaving you again."

Her expression only softened further, her voice tender with sincere compassion. "'oratio... I _know_ you. I know zhat your 'eart will not rest until you find 'im. I know 'ow much it would mean to you, to 'onor your sister and what she asked of you..."

It had been the last thing his sister had requested of him before she had died years ago, one last connection to the family he'd hardly known, but...looking down at the newborn girl safely snuggled in his hold, he had a new family that needed him more.

"No. _You_ are my priority now. You and this little one. I shouldn't have left in the first place."

Only the deepest understanding saturated her features, but she eventually nodded after a few quiet moments, accepting his assertion. "If you're sure..."

As carefully as he could, he turned and slowly lowered himself onto her bed, sitting just beside her without breaking eye contact. "I'm sure."

With a tired smile, Liaa drew in a long, deliberate breath as she leaned against him and clasped her hands tightly around his upper arm, resting her head on his shoulder. He had been away from her for so long, he had almost forgotten how much he missed the warmth of her touch and the feeling of her laying beside him. Their moment together was so tender, so pure, he couldn't believe it was his. For so many years, his life had been full of nothing but darkness and pain, some of it his own doing, but he'd accepted it as punishment for his lengthy list of sins. What had he done, then, to suddenly deserve so much...good?

Lifting her head to balance her chin on his shoulder instead, Liaa kept her voice soft. "I am so glad zhat you are 'ere," she whispered happily. "So...what do we name 'er, Love?"

Horatio blinked. "...you haven't named her yet?"

"No," Liaa laughed lightly, "of course not. We didn't really discuss it before you left. She is your daughter, too; you 'ave just as much right to name 'er as I do."

Stunned and put on the spot, he looked down at the girl, intently studying her every tiny feature for a source of inspiration. It was the colors of her skin, though, that continually stole his attention, transfixing him with their effortless transition between the patches of muted pink and dynamic blue. He had traversed the galaxy more than a dozen times and met just about every sentient race the universe had to offer, but she was still the most unique hybrid he'd ever seen; she was the rarest gem, a sparkling, dazzling...

"...Jewel."

It wasn't until he heard Liaa's soft response that he realized he had actually spoken aloud.

" _Perfect_."

His shoulders sagged with relief, leading Liaa to wrap her arms around him as she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Jewel," she agreed with a singsong, contented hum. "Jewel Sheridan..."

Ice solidified instantly in his veins. "No," he replied sternly, his entire body tensing. "I _know_ we discussed that. No Sheridan."

"'oratio, you worry too much." She sighed, tightening her hold around him to soothe his nerves. "Alright, zhen. Just...Jewel."

Another calm silence settled over them as they both gazed at their girl, watching her peacefully sleep as the minutes slowly passed. A few soft grunts were the only noises she made as she snuggled even further into her blankets, clearly enjoying the comfort of Horatio's hold, and it locked him in a strange contradiction of emotion. On one hand, he felt that his life once again had purpose; his little Jewel would need his protection, and as long as his heart continued to beat, he would give it. But as he considered her tiny, fragile form in his arms, he also felt completely...helpless.

"I don't think I've ever held anything so... _small_..."

Liaa again gave his waist a faint squeeze. "She won't be small for long. Before you know it, she'll be 'olding 'er first blaster, zhen you'll be teaching 'er 'ow to run and 'ow to fly..."

Fatigue had returned to Liaa's voice in earnest, and even her arms around him began to weaken. She was fading.

"You should get some rest," he suggested softly, giving her lek on his shoulder a light kiss. "Wil and I can take care of Jewel for now."

Her only response was a weak hum as she lowered herself back down onto her side, resuming her slow, restful breathing pattern he'd observed earlier before she'd awakened. He stood from her bed before he disturbed her, carefully securing Jewel into a delicate one-armed hold to free his other. With a light sweep of his hand, he brushed her lekku behind her shoulder, a more comfortable position, she'd often reminded him, for her sensitive head-tails as she slept. His touch brought a small smile to her face, and he only turned from her once it began to fade.

"'oratio..."

He looked back to her, not altogether surprised that her eyes remained closed as she spoke.

"Whatever you decide to do...you know zhat I will support you. Jewel and I will still be 'ere, no matter what you choose."

It was a pledge he didn't feel that he deserved, but in that moment, he didn't have the heart to tell her so. Instead, he allowed her to drift back to sleep, slowly making his way back to the other side of the room to rejoin his son. Wil had patiently kept his distance as they had shared such tender family moments, moments Horatio began to realize that Wil had never been able to experience...

The young man didn't appear to be affected, though, still beaming a pleasant smile as he extended his arms towards Horatio in an offer to take his turn with Jewel again. "Need a break?"

Though Horatio had begun to adjust her in his hold, he stopped, again lost in her delicate features. She squinted her eyes and wrinkled her nose, her displeasure at being moved around well evident without even a whimper. He was wholly at her mercy, he recognized, from this moment forward, unable to deny her anything she would ever want as long as he lived...

"Wil," he breathed, still entranced by her. "...I need you to promise me something."

Curious, Wil stepped closer to him, silently awaiting his request.

Horatio began to tremble, though, sapping the energy from him. "If...if anything ever happens to me..."

He couldn't bring himself to continue, his breath locked in his chest with anxiety. At the lowest point in his past, he had nearly thrown his life away in a meaningless cantina brawl. He couldn't imagine being so reckless anymore, now that he had three people counting on him. But, should the unthinkable happen...

"...I'll take care of her, Dad," Wil finished for him. "I promise."

The strength in Wil's vow was reassurance enough, allowing him to release a shaky breath as he gripped Wil's shoulder in gratitude. For a long moment, the two stood together in mutual support of each other, bonded over the care of the tiny girl between them who continued to sleep without a worry in the galaxy.


	2. Chapter 2

_5 years later  
Dantooine_

Unable to sleep for some reason as a ferocious storm raged through the night, Horatio stared out the bedroom window into the downpour and incessant flashes that lit up the landscape outside his modest home. He was laying in bed with his left arm tucked under his head, the other around Wyliaa's shoulders, only wearing light sleep pants to stay comfortable. She almost always ended up laying against him in her sleep, curled up on her side with her head on his right shoulder and her right arm stretched across his bare chest. Even without a sheet to cover them, she had become his own personal radiator, and this night was no different.

Somehow, Wyliaa's hand always found its way to the jagged, pronounced scar on his left side as she slept. Her fingers seemed to gently trace its rough outline as if by sheer muscle memory, for she neither focused on it nor asked him questions about it during waking hours. At first, he had been off put by her actions, afraid she intended to demand he get rid of it, or at the very least make it less noticeable. It was the reminder he kept of his love for another woman, after all; the mother of his son Wil had saved his life by treating and caring for his grievous wound for weeks. Deilia had been gone for years, however, and it was his son who had slowly taught him how to trust and how to allow himself to be loved, both by the example he saw from the boy and by his own guided introspection. He wouldn't have agreed to have another child if it hadn't been for Wil's, and Deilia's, gracious influence on him.

Could he tell that to Liaa? She hadn't ever seemed to him like a jealous person, only generous and forgiving in instances when she definitely shouldn't have been. How was he to address his scar, then, in a way that wouldn't make her feel inferior? Did she even consciously care? Why was it only at night as she slept that she seemed to subconsciously fixate on it?

His internal turmoil must have manifested physically despite his best efforts, as Liaa stirred slightly against him though she never completely woke. He brought his left hand from behind his head and gently held her palm against his chest, taking in slow, deliberate breaths to return her to sleep. He could see her faintly smile with his touch, and she snuggled even closer to him before her smile faded and she once again stilled against him.

He envied her. She was so...comfortable as she slept so deeply, perhaps because of the grueling manual labor they performed daily as cargo haulers. They had their work cut out for them, picking up and hauling and distributing desperately needed supplies between their new home on Dantooine and the nearest trading post every day. The two of them were providing necessities for not just themselves, but for other wayward homesteaders who had also made the abandoned Rebel base their home, as well. It was honest work, and no outside governing forces had yet to bother them in the far reaches of the Outer Rim since they'd moved there almost six months prior, and he well preferred it that way.

That was one of the two stipulations he had declared before Jewel was born. If he was going to keep both her and her mother safe, he didn't want them anywhere near Core Worlds where he'd made a name for himself as a bounty hunter, or where he'd become known as a mercenary for the Huxnel, or even anywhere close to Wil's homeworld of Paneau. That left him with few options, but he couldn't let his enemies and former employers find out that he had a small, vulnerable daughter to exploit. Liaa could take care of herself well enough, but he couldn't bear to be the reason she landed in someone's crosshairs, either. Giving Jewel no surname was his second demand; he had refused to let Wil take the name Sheridan and put a target on his head, so there was no chance in hell he'd give it to his daughter and possibly endanger her, either.

The storm outside continued to howl and pour, and one particularly loud clap of thunder seemed to shake their home to the foundation for several seconds. Liaa continued to sleep soundly against him, though, not even flinching despite the storm's ongoing power. He hugged her more tightly to himself, keeping her comfortable as he returned to his thoughts. He hardly had the chance to reorganize his mind before he was distracted again, this time by a small sound coming from the bedroom doorway. He lifted his head to look that direction, not altogether surprised to see his daughter Jewel standing there, desperately clutching her toy tooka in her arms. Her golden amber eyes were timid and full of fear, and he had a vague idea why.

"Jewel... What are you doing out of bed?"

She bit her lower lip. "I'm scared, Daddy," she whispered in a small, shaky voice.

With a slow breath, Horatio gently eased Liaa's arm from his chest and moved her head from his shoulder to the pillow behind him, standing from their bed as she continued to sleep. He stepped over to Jewel and effortlessly lifted her into his arms, calmly securing her in his hold as he walked with her down the hallway.

"What are you scared of? The storm?"

She nodded with tears brimming in her eyes, but she sniffled to prevent herself from shedding them and held even more tightly to her stuffed tooka. The plush little toy, affectionately named Phantom after her brother Wil's real tooka, had been well loved, worn from its rich, vibrant brown fur color to a muted brownish gray. Jewel hardly went anywhere without it anymore, Horatio had noticed, especially after she had begun to recognize her brother's lengthy absence in earnest...

Still holding her secure in his arms, Horatio stepped up to a large window in the main room, looking out with her into the driving rain. Another loud clap of thunder greatly startled her, and she turned and buried her face into Horatio's shoulder, only just missing hitting him in the eye with the ends of her swinging lekku. He stroked her back, soothing her though he remained in place.

"Jewel," he whispered. "The storm can't hurt you from out there. It's just loud. You're safe inside, I promise."

She slowly lifted her head, carefully studying the rain as it ferociously poured outside just a meter from her. "It scares me when it's loud..."

"I know. Lots of things will scare you. But you have to be brave."

Immediately she perked up, her eyes beaming with excitement. "Brave like Wil?"

A punch in the gut would have been kinder. Still, he nodded, keeping his expression neutral for her. "Brave like Wil."

Returning to the rain, Jewel pursed her lips, giving the window a defiant attitude. "Wil's not afraid of _anything_ , not even you, Storm." She gave a short hmph, clutching Phantom even more tightly to herself, but her newfound strength faded after a few moments in the darkness. It wasn't until she looked up at him with her quivering amber eyes that he recognized her ongoing distress.

"Daddy... I miss Wil."

He had never before felt so simultaneously guilty and intensely sympathetic.

"I know, Gem," he breathed weakly. "So do I."

Just like her mother, though, Jewel was far more perceptive than he wanted her to be.

"Is that why you're sad?"

The question was innocent enough, but it left him stunned. How could she possibly tell? He hadn't been morose around her, and in fact he had consciously kept his mood in check whenever she was near. He was mostly certain she couldn't read his mind...

She reached up and gently pressed a tiny finger against his forehead. "Mommy says your 'sad lines' don't go away, but...I can see them now."

He couldn't bear to lie to her, though, no matter how much his admission pained him. "You're right. You always are. I'm sad because I miss Wil."

"So when is he going to come visit us?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "He's very busy, Jewel."

"...does he not love us anymore?"

Looking her directly in her saddened eyes, Horatio somehow managed to keep strength in his voice. "You listen to me. There is no one, _no one_ in this galaxy that your brother loves more than you. Do you understand? He will _always_ love you, and he will always protect you, even when - "

"But how can he protect me if he's not here?"

His remaining energy completely left him as he released a shaky breath. _It's **b**_ _ **ecause** he's not here that he's protecting you... _ How was he supposed to explain how complicated their situation was? How would a five-year-old girl comprehend his behavior as anything but subversive? He had intentionally kept his son from finding out that he was moving his family to the other side of the galaxy, and he had kept the location of their new home secret from every single person who'd ever known the name Horatio Sheridan... The former was what had etched permanent "sad lines" into his face, though, and Jewel had seen right through him.

He had never felt more guilt-ridden.

"Remember how I told you that Wil has a special job?" he asked, awaiting a nod from her before continuing softly. "He is very good at what he does. He doesn't have to be here to do the best that he can. He keeps the bad people away from you, and me, and your mom, all day, every day. It's not easy. I know you want to see him, but right now, he's busy keeping us safe."

It wasn't entirely a lie, but his heart was threatening to pound itself out of his chest the longer Jewel remained so quiet. She seemed to be thinking through his words carefully, considering his explanation with maturity not often seen in such young children. Her intelligence and thoughtfulness didn't surprise him, though, and neither did her stubbornness.

"Tell you what," he began lightly, hoping to ease her mood. "Why don't we send a message to him tomorrow? Just you and me."

The turnaround was immediate. _"Can_ we?" she beamed. "Can we make him come here?"

"We'll meet him somewhere," he countered diplomatically. "That way he doesn't have to come all the way out here. Okay? Do you think he'd like that?"

Jewel nodded with fervor, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck in elated gratitude. He returned her embrace and hugged her to himself in earnest, thankful that her trembling had completely subsided in his hold as they had talked. With slow, sweeping steps, he left the window and the storm behind and carried her back to her room, gently lowering her from his arms onto her bed.

"But you have to go back to sleep," he charged as he sat on the bed just beside her and pulled the blanket over her. "Got it? Or you'll be too tired in the morning."

"...will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

He wanted nothing more than to immediately tell her he would. "I thought you were going to be brave?"

When she began to appear almost as scared as she had been before, he looked to her favorite toy for inspiration. "How about this... Whenever you get scared, I want you to give Phantom the biggest, tightest hug you can. And you know what? I bet the real Phantom will feel it, every time."

"She will?"

"She will. And I bet Wil will feel it, too. We'll ask him about it tomorrow, how many times he felt your hugs. But you have to go to sleep, okay?"

She accepted his terms with a weak nod, turning onto her side with Phantom secured in her arms. He watched her squeeze the toy tooka against herself with every deep, rumbling clap of thunder that reached her ear cones, but she seemed to calm herself as the moments went by. Her breathing slowed as she neared sleep, his cue to leave before he disrupted her light slumber. He carefully stood from the bed, slowly making his way out of her room when her soft, sleepy voice stopped him.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you more, my Precious Gem."

Hearing only light, paced breaths behind him, Horatio continued on out of her room, confident she would remain asleep for the rest of the night. His own fatigue rapidly caught up with him as he returned to his room, and though he had been intent on keeping his footsteps soft, Liaa partially woke as he neared.

"Come back to bed, 'oratio," she moaned, only half conscious. "I'm getting cold."

He hardly stifled a laugh as he stooped to sit. "I find that hard to believe."

Liaa grinned sleepily. "Fine. Your side of zhe bed is getting cold."

Looking over his shoulder at her still curled up in the same position he'd left her in, he couldn't bring himself to return to their usual nightly embrace. He would only be restless until morning, tortured by his decision to so suddenly cut his son out of his life and how it was now affecting his daughter's happiness, and he wouldn't allow his partner to suffer for it, too. She seemed to pick up on his distress, anyway, blinking sleep from her eyes a bit more as she studied him.

"What's bozhering you?"

He sighed. "Did my 'sad lines' give me away?"

Amused, she laughed lightly as she reached up and wrapped her hand around his arm. "'oratio, she's worried about you. I zhink it's adorable."

"I don't want her to be worried about me. She doesn't need to be."

Her warm hand moved up and down his bare arm, as much comfort as she could offer in her sleepy haze. "Do you regret moving us 'ere?"

"No," he answered immediately. "That's not what I regret. I shouldn't have - "

A strange sound coming from somewhere else within their home cut his words short. It was a quick, hollow _thump,_ but over the ongoing rage of the storm outside, he couldn't tell which direction it had come from.

"Did you hear that?"

But dozing off again, Liaa hardly reacted. "It's just zhe storm, love."

"No, that wasn't thunder." Had Jewel gotten up out of bed again?

Another loud tumbling crash was followed quickly by the distinctive sound of a man calling out in sudden pain, instantly freezing Horatio's blood in his veins as he stood. _There was an intruder in their home._

Liaa gasped in fear, having heard exactly what he had. Reacting solely on reflexes and years of training, Horatio grabbed his blaster from the table beside him without looking, keeping an eye on the door to their room as he positioned himself between it and Liaa behind him.

"Liaa, get your blaster.

Her voice was uncharacteristically timid. "'oratio..."

"Stay here," he ordered with quiet intensity, carefully stepping towards the door. He had hardly taken a look down the darkened hallway before he heard the telltale clinking of a durasteel cylinder tumbling towards him, having been tossed his direction. Unable to see it, though, he hardly had the chance to process what it might be before he heard a man's voice, a _familiar_ voice, call out to him from the darkness.

"No! Dad, _get down_!"

He had no time to move. The detonator seemed to settle at his feet just as it exploded in a brilliant, powerful flash, blasting him backward to his bedroom wall behind him. His last thought was nothing but a name, belonging to his son who had just tried to save him.

 _Wil..._


	3. Chapter 3

The first few seconds he spent cognizant that he was unable to take in a breath sent his mind into a frenzy, overrunning his thoughts with desperation and panic. His lungs were stunned, rendered incapable of moving, as his close proximity to the detonator's blast had earned him a dozen small punctures all over his chest. He had been wearing no clothing above his waist, leaving him completely vulnerable to everything the detonator had sent his way, but...his heart was still beating? His concussive fog was already lifting? How long had he been out?

Horatio was finally able to draw in short, gasping breaths, and his eyes recovered from the bright flash that had lingered, but a sharp, burning pain along the left lower side of his rib cage was quick to steal his attention. He brought his hand to his side and felt the deeply slashed skin, the flowing blood, and he realized he had only precious few minutes before he'd either bleed out or suffocate. He had to act quickly; neither was his preferred way to die.

Willing his battered body out of its shock, he managed to get back up onto his feet, stumbling about his room as though he were intoxicated. The small, smoldering fires around him, the aftermath of the detonator that had just exploded, cast faint shadows on the walls as he moved, disorienting him further. It wasn't until he caught a brief glimpse of Liaa's turquoise skin on the floor next to the bed that his mind finally snapped to attention, and he painfully fell to his knees beside her.

"Liaa? Liaa!" he begged for her response as he groped around her neck for a pulse, but she gave none. He noticed a darkened lump on her forehead just as he felt her soft, warm breath breeze across his hand, but he couldn't immediately tell if anything else ailed her. Hopefully she had only suffered a concussion; he was no medic, though, and time was getting away from him. He had to protect her and Jewel from whoever had been fighting Wil and had thrown that detonator, so long as his own consciousness held out...

After grasping Liaa's blaster from the floor, he struggled to stand, pressing his other hand to his open side. His jaw clenched so mightily his teeth could crack under the strain, but he commanded his body to continue forward in defiance of the pain. Even through his pained gasps, he no longer heard any movement or sound coming from anywhere within his home, keeping him on edge. He slowly stepped into the hallway and out into the main room, only able to see the aftermath of the fighting strewn about the floor with each flash of lightning that lit up the dark house.

Tables and chairs had been completely overturned and broken, and their contents had been scattered in every direction, making it difficult to determine which way the two had come from or gone. He knew he had no chance of sneaking up on anyone, as desperate as his gasping had become, so he decided to forfeit stealth altogether and called out for his son. He got no response, though, from Wil or from his assailant, so he continued his search, making his way through his home completely unaware of the trail of blood he was leaving behind.

A loud, sustained rush of wind seemed to howl ferociously against the front facade, and as he turned towards it, he spotted one lone figure outside on the walkway, standing completely exposed in the rain just meters beyond the closed main door. Though without much lighting, he immediately knew that the form belonged to his son Wil, but...why was he out there? Where was the other?

Horatio ignored the icy, torrential rain as he left the shelter of his home, taking faster steps the closer he got to Wil. All he saw was his son ahead of him, all he wanted was to hold him, protect him from whoever had attacked them, and thank him for somehow finding them and intervening before their assailant had done even more damage. Horatio was merely one last stride behind him when Wil limply collapsed to his knees, and Horatio was only just able to grab his shoulders and support him before the young man fell the rest of the way to the ground.

As he knelt and held Wil against him, his own pain no longer registered, his mind completely numbed the instant he saw that Wil, too, had been gravely wounded. Dark red blood had quickly spread through his rain-soaked shirt, cascading down his torso from a single central chest wound. Wil's head fell back in Horatio's hold, entirely unaffected by the heavy rain that directly beat down on his face without mercy. He weakly gasped for breath and only recognized his father's face hovering over his after a long, painful moment.

"Dad," he choked, his skin becoming even more pale in the light of one lone glowlamp beside the walkway. "I'm - I'm sorry..."

"Don't talk," Horatio bit back shortly, limited by his own diminished breathing. He began to press his palm over the hole in Wil's chest, but in his haze, he hesitated for some reason. He wanted the rain to stop. He wanted Wil to be comfortable, not drenched and frozen to his core by the merciless downpour. Maybe...maybe back in the shelter of his home he could better help his dying son...

Inspired by the thought, Horatio scrambled to his feet as he lifted Wil under his arms, somehow managing to drag him down the walkway. It took all the willpower he had left to move Wil's lifeless weight, but he was nothing but determined. His open side screamed with unbearable pain with each step, his head was spinning without enough oxygen, his muscles trembled as they fought for his final reserves of energy, but still he pressed on...

The span between the spot where Wil had fallen and the main door had never seemed so long. Every stride he took threatened to be his last, and every moment's hesitation cost him precious seconds neither of them could afford. Each mighty effort he gave dragging Wil to safety drained him substantially, until he felt his hip strike the door behind him. He fumbled for the control panel to open it, cursing his numb, slick, bloody fingers for the dexterity they'd suddenly forgotten. _Finally_ bringing them both back inside and out of the rain, Horatio collapsed beside Wil, no longer able to keep his eyes open or take in a breath. He quickly drifted between consciousness, hearing the ongoing storm but also feeling the perilous pull of the calm darkness. His body no longer responded to his commands, though he wanted nothing more than to tend to Wil, to stop the bleeding, to save him...

 _...Horatio!_

A familiar voice echoed through his thoughts, perhaps a long buried memory brought to the surface in his waning minutes of life. His former Huxnel partner had yelled at him a number of times over their tumultuous past, often out of anger, or surprise, but her tone this time was...worried.

 _Horatio, Horatio! Can you hear me? Rech, he's hardly breathing..._

Her voice was densely muffled, a far cry from the usual sharpness that, out of habit, had always cut through to his ears like a vibroblade. He had been able to hear her voice kilometers away, as clear as if she had been standing next to him, and it had saved his life on more than one occasion. He would have easily remembered an abnormal encounter such as this, even in his oxygen-deprived haze, leading him to realize that this was no memory.

 _...time, but Wil's critical, I can't keep..._

A different, deeper voice floated below hers, belonging to her husband. They...they were there with him? And Wil...were they helping him?

Renewed by a wave of energy coming from somewhere deep within himself, Horatio forced his eyes to open little by little, meeting Mand's intense gaze as she searched his face.

"Horatio? Hold on," she commanded breathlessly, gently brushing his rain-matted hair from his forehead as water continued to drip off her face onto his. "Stay with me, okay?" Her gaze quickly tracked down to his left side, though, where he felt the pressure of her hand, but little pain. She lingered there only a moment before she turned to look behind herself, calling down the hallway. "Elena? Adalia?"

"Adult twi'lek woman, unconscious in the back bedroom. Head trauma."

"And I found Phantom," Mand's voice also echoed down the hall from the other end of the home, though Horatio watched Mand's lips make no movements. "She's wounded, too."

Color was draining from Horatio's vision as he continued to gasp in earnest, his lungs almost completely collapsed from the extreme trauma they'd sustained. He willed himself to stay conscious, though, waiting for one of them, any of them, to call out that they'd also found his daughter. She should have been safely secured in her room, untouched by the fighting or the detonator blast...but none of his four rescuers mentioned anyone else.

Fighting the darkness that once again had him in a vice grip, Horatio forced air out of his mouth and formed his daughter's name, but he hardly even heard himself. He tried again, frustrated that at that moment Mand wasn't paying him any attention, instead more focused on his gushing side wound. Even less strength was behind his breath, and his voice was completely inaudible. As the rest of his body shut down and sealed him under the black once more, he mouthed her name a third time...terrified as he'd never been before that he had just lost both of his children in one fell swoop, and he hadn't been able to stop it.

* * *

With her hand pressed against the bacta tank's transparisteel, Mand studied Horatio pensively, watching his battered body floating listlessly in the warmed healing fluid. He remained unconscious and suspended in the tank by his shoulders, bringing his arms away from his sides and allowing Mand to clearly see his most grievous wound. The medics in the remote Paneau base had quickly stitched his side closed before submerging him to help the bacta along, but she knew he had extensive internal damage to recover from, too.

A pair of soft footsteps strode up beside her, and only after retracting her hand from the tank did Mand turn to see that Elena had joined her in the treatment room. Elena wore a solemn, worried expression, as well, as she glanced up at Horatio, but she returned to Mand a moment later.

"They've stabilized the Twi'lek woman," she reported gently. "They're keeping her lightly sedated a little while longer, though, so she doesn't exacerbate the swelling in her head." She swallowed weakly and hesitated a long moment, afraid to speak. "...Wil?"

Mand kept her voice soft. "Still in surgery. The hole in his heart is...proving difficult to repair, but," she paused, gripping Elena's shoulder to reassure her, "Rech is with him. If anyone can keep Wil alive...he can."

Elena nodded weakly, seeming to distract herself by quickly focusing on Horatio instead. "What about him?"

"Multiple chest punctures, one completely collapsed lung, lacerated spleen, and mild hypothermia. He's lucky he didn't bleed out, too. Looks like we arrived just in time to save both of them."

But Elena didn't appear to share her optimism. "Mand... _what_ did we walk in on?"

That same question had been churning through her mind, too, but she had been waiting to ask it until any of the three they had rescued had woken up. She had no answers herself. "...I don't know."

"You never saw the back hallway, where Adalia and I were looking," Elena continued, sounding almost haunted. "There was a blast pattern...there were _scorch marks_ on the walls. Some kind of detonator went off there, _inside."_

Looking back up at her former partner, Mand nodded solemnly. "That would explain Horatio's wounds."

"But not Wil's."

Nothing about the scene they found made any sense, Mand agreed. So much damage inside the home from a lengthy, violent struggle would have been off-putting enough, but finding the two Sheridan men together, so gravely injured, barely clinging to life...

"I think Wil was stabbed outside," Mand thought aloud, "and Horatio brought him back in. It was hard to see because the rain had partially diluted the trail, but...I remember we followed the blood into the house when we arrived. Whoever had attacked them was long gone."

Elena crossed her arms over her chest anxiously. "I don't understand the timing of it all. Either that fight went on for more than an hour...or Wil sent that distress signal to us before any of it even started."

So did that mean Wil knew who their attacker was? Why hadn't he included any information, other than a signal for them to track, in the message he had sent them? Whatever they had stumbled upon in answering Wil's urgent request for their help, it was becoming far more complicated than Mand had anticipated.

Before Mand could continue with their discussion, a dark-skinned, curly haired young woman raced up to them, nearly out of breath as she came to a stop just before them. Her gaze locked on Elena immediately, and Elena appeared to recognize her in turn.

"Master Rys'tihn," the girl addressed her frantically, glancing about the other empty bacta tanks beside Horatio's. "Where is Wil?"

"Embrey," Elena addressed her with mild surprise. "He's...in a surgical suite down the hall. How did you..."

Still calming her breathing, Embrey swallowed hard, glancing between the two Masters. "He sent me the same distress call you all got. Is it true what the other agents are saying? The whole family was attacked?"

Mand and Elena exchanged uneasy looks. "Family?"

Embrey nodded. "I saw Wyliaa, the rutian Twi'lek, when I came in. She's been Horatio's partner for a few years now. So is Jewel somewhere else? Is she okay?"

Mand felt her heart flutter to a stop. "...who is Jewel?"

Embrey's eyes widened in fear as she recognized the same look of confusion on their faces. Her voice became weak. "...she's Horatio and Wyliaa's daughter. A hybrid. Five years old. You...you didn't find her?"

"We searched _all_ of the rooms," Elena defended in mild shock, shaking her head.

Mand stood dumbfounded, too. "There was no one else in that home. I would have sensed them."

Overcome with emotion, Embrey brought a hand to her mouth as she trembled in sorrow.

"...who would kidnap a five-year-old girl?"


	4. Chapter 4

"You _have_ to find her," Embrey implored, looking only to Elena as she continued. "She is a sweet, wonderful little girl, and she means everything to Wil, to her family. _Please,_ Master..."

Mand watched Elena as she carefully considered Embrey's plea, then let go of a short sigh before responding.

"You're allowed to take orders from me, aren't you?"

Embrey nodded. "Of course, Master Rys'tihn."

"Take a team back to Dantooine. Go through every square meter of that home, look for any clues that could help us figure out where she is or who might have taken her. We did leave rather quickly to get Horatio and Wil here," she paused briefly, glancing at Mand for her agreement, "so maybe there's something we missed."

Embrey plainly hesitated a brief moment before she bowed obediently and left almost as quickly as she had arrived. The whole exchange had piqued Mand's interest; the young woman had been so earnestly concerned for Wil and for the other Sheridans, but how did Elena know her? Thankfully, Elena anticipated her questions and wasted little time in explaining.

"Embrey Noh," she preempted Mand as they watched her leave the facility, "a Rys'tihn covert agent. She works for Wil's brother Malin, usually within the Retreat...which was why I was surprised to see her here. But..."

"...it sounds like she and Wil are close," Mand softly finished for her.

A flash of genuine worry swept across Elena's face, but she was quick to correct it before she agreed with a short nod. Mand could appreciate Elena's anxiety; Wil was her nephew, after all, and he had practically grown up as one of her own children, in the care of his late mother's family from the age of two. Wil had recently taken on more responsibilities as a Ghost Heir in training of sorts, learning from his brother Malin and his cousin Garran about intelligence gathering, evasion techniques, and close combat. All were skills he had clearly relied upon just hours ago as he fought some mysterious assailant, but as Elena had mentioned before, the timing seemed so strange. Wil had to have known what was about to happen and who he was going up against to have sent out his distress signal the way he had. He must have known he was going to need all the help he could get to protect his sister Jewel...but they all had been too late.

Elena disrupted Mand's thoughts with a similar progression. "...did you know about the girl?"

"No," Mand breathed sadly. "I had no idea."

"Wil never said anything about her to me. But the agents knew."

"That's their job, Elena, to gather intel," Mand countered. "If Horatio had wanted us to know about her, he or Wil would have told us. I'm sure he just wanted to keep his daughter safe."

Though Elena hadn't responded aloud, Mand only had to read her expression to know that they both shared the same thought, and both felt equally guilty for it.

 _He wanted to, but he couldn't._

A long silence stretched between them, communicating a mutual understanding that required nothing verbal. They had both been through similar struggles with their own children, so they were acutely aware that they were in no position to righteously judge Horatio for his failure. He had retreated to the edge of the galaxy, presumably, to avoid an event just like this, yet it had found him anyway. It was always the worst anxiety to endure, knowing young, innocent children were cruelly targeted on their parents' behalf...

"I'm...going to send a report to Paneau," Elena concluded softly as she turned to leave. "If they're able to stabilize Wil here, I want to get him home as soon as we can."

Mand nodded, sending her friend on her way. "I don't blame you."

Alone again with just the bacta tanks, their medical droid operator, and their lone occupant, Mand let go of a weary sigh, uncertainty eating at her the longer she considered the ineffectual position she and her fellow Jedi were in. They had only arrived on Dantooine just as Horatio and Wil had both nearly succumbed to their wounds, and none of the four had any idea, or any warning, that they would be discovering such a dire scene. If only they had been able to arrive just minutes earlier, perhaps they could have intercepted the Sheridans' attacker and rescued Jewel before he had disappeared with her...

A sudden, rough gurgling sound echoed through the previously silent chamber, and Mand looked up just in time to see Horatio's body convulse, his arms straining against the tank's suspension harness above him. His face was hidden behind a curtain of bubbles escaping from his breath mask over his nose and mouth as he struggled, and in her shock, Mand couldn't get the order out fast enough.

"Bring him out of there," she demanded of the medical droid, _"now!"_

The droid's servos whined and whirred as it moved to obey, seemingly in slow motion, retracting the harness cables that lifted Horatio out of the tank. He continued to jerk and strain as he left the bacta, the excess fluid being flung in every direction even as it poured off him. Mand wasted little time in grabbing a nearby blanket, covering him when the harness released and he fell back against the repulsor bed just beside the tank. The droid slowly removed Horatio's breath mask from his face, but he continued to cough and choke on the bacta that had leaked into it during his struggle. His eyes remained closed, though, even as Mand extended the Force to him to calm him, worrying her that his condition was not as good as she had hoped.

A team of medics, belatedly alerted by the medical droid, swooped in behind her and took over his care, but she refused to leave and remained at his side. She held tightly to his hand and locked her gaze on his face, awaiting the instant he began to show signs of waking. She wanted to stay close enough to do everything she could to carefully clear his mind, so he could hopefully give them the answers they so desperately sought. After several lengthy minutes, though, he remained unconscious, much to her dismay, but she maintained her vigil anyway. Though hers was the face she didn't think he'd be particularly thrilled to see after waking up, she was at least someone familiar in an unfamiliar place. With his son Wil still in surgery and his partner Wyliaa under careful observation in another room, his former partner Mand would just have to do.

* * *

"Em? ...Embrey? Embrey!"

Finally startled out of her daze by her brother's raised voice beside her, Embrey looked to him with little more than a lost expression. His was concerned as he studied her intently, searching her eyes. "...are you even here with us?"

She took in a short breath as she blinked, recognizing the collective attention of the three other covert agents on her, as well. She eventually found the strength to nod, giving them a faint, penitent smile to return them to their search of the Sheridans' home. Overprotective as always, her brother Thaylan stepped closer to her for a softer conversation as the others left.

"Look... I know you're worried about Wil," he began with care, "we all are. But this is how _we_ help him. We find who did this. We find who took Jewel. And we make it right."

The pool of blood in the Sheridans' foyer, a mix of both Wil's and his father Horatio's, drew her gaze to it once more as her stomach tumbled. It had boot prints and drag marks all through it from the frenzy that had taken place earlier; had she not known that Horatio and Wil had both suffered substantial wounds that had clearly drained them, she would have completely lost hope for Wil altogether.

"...he shouldn't have gone alone."

Thaylan gave a sympathetic sigh, following her gaze briefly. "You're right. He shouldn't have." Though he hesitated, his progression surprised her. "But you know he wouldn't have allowed you to go with him, either."

Her jaw clenched in frustration. Thaylan of all people should know that she wasn't one to be told what she couldn't do, and she didn't need a reminder.

"Hell," he continued gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck, "he's going to kill me when he finds out that I let you leave Paneau in the first place."

Embrey snapped. "You didn't _let_ me do anything. I have every right to be here, same as you, doing my job. _He_ is my job."

"I know, but Em...you're not supposed to be out in the field right now. Your job is supposed to be at home."

She narrowed her eyes. "You don't outrank me. You can't order me to leave."

Thaylan agreed reluctantly, wearied by her stubbornness. "I can't, which is why I haven't yet. But you need to be careful," he continued even more softly, " _please_. We don't know anything about what's going on here, and I don't want you to get hurt."

The sincere concern in his voice began to temper her fury; he had always looked out for her, even moreso than her other brothers, and even going so far as to discourage her from taking her oath to the Rys'tihns when she turned eighteen...

"...I'm not breakable."

She could tell that, in the presence of other covert agents, Thaylan was withholding an eyeroll. "Em, you know what I me-"

A soft _thump_ and a brief echo of grinding servos just to her right stole Embrey's attention, cutting off the rest of Thaylan's words. "What was that?"

She stared hard at a blank wall where the sound had come from, awaiting another sound to confirm that she hadn't simply imagined it. The rest of the team was on the far side of the home, but she _knew_ the sound had come from just beyond the wall. Thaylan had drawn his blaster beside her, but he looked around in confusion. There were no seams or access panels nearby that she could see, so was there a door elsewhere?

Another mysterious sound filtered through to them, leading Embrey and Thaylan to follow it around the corner to a small closet door, partially hidden behind an overturned table. Embrey drew her blaster, too, as Thaylan gave a quick, shrill whistle to call the other agents back to them. The two men, Aggas and Nevo, wordlessly formed up behind them in a well-practiced stance, and the other woman, Jaka, kept watch from the hallway. With a tense nod from Thaylan, the five readied themselves for a close fight as he pressed the door release...

...to reveal a grimy, orange-paneled R2 unit that retreated further into the shadows at being discovered. It gave a sad, timid whine as its dome nervously turned back and forth, but it made no aggressive moves, only remained in place. The agents all stood perplexed.

"...a droid?"

"The Sheridans don't have a droid..."

"How'd it get in here?"

Thaylan took charge, though, addressing the droid directly. "What are you doing here? Identify yourself."

The droid beeped and chirped carefully, and only Nevo could translate. "He said he's B3-X4, and he followed someone here."

"Well, technically, so did we," Jaka said as she stepped closer to the group. "Who'd he follow?"

B3-X4 hesitated a lengthy moment before responding, and Nevo's translation was almost unnecessary. "He won't say."

Thaylan's grip tightened on his blaster. "I don't like this."

Aggas shook his head. "We can't impound a droid, we don't have the resources out here."

"What if it belongs to the Sheridans' attacker?"

The agents continued to argue with each other what their next move should be, but something about the droid's designation seemed to resonate with Embrey, stirring a feeling of familiarity from deep within her memory...

"Wait a minute," she halted their discussion with a wave of her hand, peering at the droid curiously. "...Bex?"

An affirmative albeit surprised beep from the astromech earned an equally puzzled look from Nevo. "You know this droid, Em?"

"I know _of_ him," she corrected Nevo. "He was Recero Sheridan's droid. Horatio's sister."

Bex agreed, and spurted more blips and whistles. "He said Recero died a long time ago, but he's been looking for her son for the past few years."

Embrey sighed with frustration, desperate for any helpful information. "She had two sons. _Who_ did you follow here?"

Again Bex hesitated, his dome turning back and forth as if searching for an escape, but Embrey refused to relent. Another string of beeps and chirps left Nevo reluctant to relay the droid's response. "He still won't tell us, but...he did say he got a scan of a ship that left just before the Jedi arrived."

"The man who took Jewel," Aggas affirmed.

But Embrey needed proof. "Show me."

Bex wasted little time in spinning his projector into position, lighting up the small closet he still occupied with a light blue glow as he displayed the ship in the air above him. Embrey studied it intently, somewhat disappointed that the Sheridans' attacker hadn't stolen one of their ships instead. They could have easily tracked him that way, but instead, they were left with only one small clue, a very common-looking, nondescript ship that could have come from anywhere, gone anywhere...

"It looks Corellian."

"No, it's far too sleek. Nubian?"

"Maybe Kuat."

"We can figure out its make later," Embrey interrupted shortly, feeling her anxiety rising. "We need to get this scan to the Jedi, now."

"No way," Thaylan immediately countered. "We're handling this search, not them."

Embrey shook her head. "Maybe this is somehow tied to Horatio's past, and they may know something we don't. Maybe Master Natiyr or Master Rys'tihn can identify the ship; we won't know unless we take it to them. We are _not_ cutting them out of this, Thaylan," she concluded with a slight tremor in her voice, "...they are the _only_ reason that Wil and Horatio are still alive."

Only after a long, pensive moment did Thaylan give a reluctant sigh, ceding his previous stance. "Nevo, you and Embrey take Bex back to the remote facility. Let us know if the Jedi have any input. Aggas, Jaka, and I will continue the search here. We'll keep you updated."

Getting nods of agreement from the others, Thaylan looked to Embrey directly, his gaze as intense as his voice. "And Em...I want you to stay there, with Wil, please."

Though they had just established mere minutes ago that she was not under any actual obligation to follow Thaylan's orders...Embrey agreed with a small nod, appreciative of his willingness to accept her demands. Her stomach tumbled again at the thought of finally seeing Wil since he had been injured, though she lightly placed a hand atop it to calm it. She could tolerate being benched for the moment, as long as there was progress being made. And if she were honest with herself, she wanted nothing more than to be at Wil's side when he awoke, _if_ he awoke, and Thaylan's mandate would allow her to do just that.


	5. Chapter 5

Though the halls of the remote facility weren't very long or wide, Mand still sprinted as quickly as she could after hearing Adalia's calls for help from the other side of the floor. Her twin sister stood outside Horatio's room with her arms tightly crossed over her chest, glancing nervously inside as she awaited Mand's arrival. Once close enough, Mand looked her up and down with concern, assessing her condition.

"Are you okay?"

Adalia nodded shortly, trembling the slightest bit as she spoke. "I'm sorry, I - I didn't know what to say. When he woke up, he...he kept asking... I had to tell him... I'm sorry..."

Mand's heart sank, knowing full well the volatile, unrestrained reaction her sister had just endured from a despondent father. She had intended to be the one to talk to him when he awoke, but she had left his side briefly to spend some time with the twi'lek woman, to calm her after she'd learned her daughter had been taken. Taming Horatio would be a far more challenging task, and Mand regretted leaving Adalia so unprepared in her position. She gripped Adalia's shoulders in a sympathetic gesture, searching her eyes to comfort her.

"It's okay," she soothed. "I'm sorry he scared you. Thank you for trying to help, I'll take care of him now."

But Adalia only looked more worried for her. "Please, be careful, Prime..."

Mand nodded, appreciating her warning with a wan smile that faded as she turned and slowly stepped into the room to face her damaged former partner.

It looked as she had expected it to, like a noticeable scuffle had taken place though Horatio was the room's only occupant. He had overturned a small table beside his bed, scattering the bandages and other medical supplies about the room. A plate of food that had been thrown against the wall was still dripping to the floor, and the glass of water that had accompanied it lay shattered in the opposite corner. Despite the mess he had made, though, she immediately spotted the bloodied bandages he'd ripped off his side and left on his bed, and he stood at the window, his back to her. He looked little less than a wounded animal, bracing himself against the sill as he heaved labored breaths and struggled to remain standing.

She had never before seen so much of herself in him. He had lashed out in a visceral, emotional manner that she wished she'd been able to the moment she realized her daughter Cordira had been taken. No wonder they'd worked together so well all those years ago.

 _"Get...out..."_

His weakened breathing had stolen most of the fury from his voice, but Mand knew she still had to tread carefully. He had long kept his personal pain hidden from everyone, even from her, with such fierce determination, so he couldn't be more dangerous than he was in his current state.

"Liaa's awake now," she began so softly, hoping to draw him out of himself. "She's asking about you... She's worried about you."

But he remained unchanged. " _I said_ , leave, _Kil..."_

Mand took in and released a slow, centering breath, drawing on the Force to steel her nerves. "You know I won't. I refuse."

He flinched the slightest bit at her words, seemingly unable to decide if it was worth continuing to fight her. Their stubbornness had been evenly matched since they'd been partnered together in their teens, and Mand had gone on to prove time and time again that she could far outlast his resolve. He had decided to focus his energy elsewhere, though, as he made no further demands, instead reverting to the painful source of his rage as he gripped the sill in a whiteknuckle hold.

"...Jewel is gone."

Her heart ached so deeply for his; she knew exactly the excruciating, indescribable torment he was going through, for she had once experienced the same. It was up to her to be the gentle voice of hope he needed when everything else in his head was only screaming with anger and despair, if he would allow her to be.

"We will find her, Horatio. I promise you."

Even though his face was still turned away from her, she could feel the agony freely emanating from him. "...and Wil is dead."

"No," she countered immediately, stepping closer to him as she forced as much strength as she could into her words. "No, Horatio, he's not. We're doing everything we can for him. Rech hasn't left his side since we found you both. He's out of surgery now, and he's in a bacta tank, which is where you should be, too."

No longer on the other side of the room but just beside him, Mand could plainly see just how much his entire body was shaking, both from the extreme emotions he fought within himself and from the severe fatigue she knew his muscles had to be suffering. He had lost a substantial amount of blood before she and the other Jedi had found him, and with only such a short passage of time between his arrival at the remote facility and his limited recovery, she could only surmise that he remained standing by sheer force of will.

"I'm not going into any bacta tank..."

Mand hardly stifled a weak laugh at the irony that she had already pulled him out of one mere hours ago. "Fine," she ceded, lightly placing a hand on his arm. "But you at least need to rest, _please..."_

His intense gaze snapped to hers, the most movement she'd seen out of him yet. "Rest?" he returned incredulously, his volume rising. _"Rest?!_ You're out of your blasted mind. I don't get to rest, not while my daughter is out ther- " Doubled over by sudden, intense pain, he grabbed his stitched left side, his legs no longer holding him upright. Mand reacted quickly, wrapping her arms around his chest to steady him until he caught his breath, but his heavier frame continued to sink to the floor. She could only ease his movements as he settled himself down, and though his hand still covered it, she worried for the delicate stitches over his lacerated abdomen that may not hold up to his increased activity. She knelt in front of him as he feebly gasped to recover, and as she looked up into his eyes, she was unprepared for the complete vulnerability he was no longer making any effort to hide.

"I had just left her room," he managed at a weak, trembling whisper, his eyes locked in an unfocused stare beyond her. "She was afraid of the storm... I had gotten her back to sleep, and then..." He trailed off, his posture sagging as his energy drained in earnest. Mand gripped his shoulders to at least keep him upright, but he hardly seemed to notice as he continued recounting his nightmare aloud. "...I never even heard her cry." A terrible realization brought him back to himself, and he met Mand's gaze directly once more, all hope erased from his expression. "... _he killed her, too_."

Moved with unbridled compassion for him, for his understandable descent into total misery, Mand felt a lump forming in her throat that choked her briefly. She swallowed as she shook her head, desperate to keep him from completely giving up. "No, I don't think so. Maybe...maybe he kept her sleeping. She's your daughter, Horatio... Whoever it was that took her, if he knew _anything_ about you, he'd have to expect that she would put up one _hell_ of a fight."

Though his expression changed little as if he hadn't heard anything she'd said, he rested his head on the wall behind him, closing his eyes to reserve what little energy he had left. Mand knew he had to be fading, but since none of the other Sheridans could tell her, she needed to know...

"Horatio...did you ever see him? The man who attacked you?"

Without opening his eyes, he shook his head weakly. "It was dark...middle of the night... Wil, he...he tried to warn me about the flash detonator...but that was all I heard."

Mand sighed sadly. Wyliaa had just given them the same report, and she had seen even less of the attack than he had. How in the galaxy were they supposed to track down a kidnapped twi'lek hybrid when they had nothing to start from?

Inspired by a sudden thought, Horatio lifted his head and looked to Mand once more with clarity, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. "...how did you know where we were?"

She carefully pried his hand away from his side, inspecting the deep laceration that had begun to bleed again. "We didn't. Wil sent us a distress signal, and we followed that. He's the reason we found you both when we did, and we only just arrived in time."

"Then...how did _he_ know where to find us? I...I never told him where we moved..."

Lifting her gaze from his wound, Mand could hardly withhold her shock. He had _intentionally_ kept Wil from knowing where he'd moved his family? Had something happened between them? Had they gone through some kind of rift? The thought left her fumbling for words. "I don't know... We haven't been able to ask him anything yet."

"It's my fault..."

Mand shook her head with emphasis, gripping his bloodied hand in hers. "No, it's not. Don't do this to yourself."

A distant look returned to his eyes as his skin became even more pale and his trembling intensified. "I can't lose them, Kil... I _can't."_

"I know," she soothed, slowly positioning herself at his side to begin lifting him to his feet. She pulled his arm over her shoulders and gently tugged, surprised at how much strength he had left to mostly right himself on his feet. "I will do everything I can to help you find her, but you _must_ recover first. You can't do anything for Jewel, or for Wil, until you heal."

Thankfully he didn't protest as she stepped with him back over to the bed, lowering him down onto it with care. She wasted little time in covering his side with a new bacta patch, hoping it would reverse the damage he had done during his fit of rage. He hardly reacted to the pressure she applied to the site, and she worried even more for him as she felt at his neck for his weak and thready pulse under her fingers. Ensuring that he was at least comfortable as he floated in and out of consciousness, she called down the hall for medics to stabilize him once more.

* * *

Waking up with a start, Horatio called out in distress, grabbing his left side that had begun to pain him sharply. His torso had been double bandaged, he quickly discovered, after his earlier premature removal, and the medics hadn't been all too gentle on their second application. The tightness of the wrapping restricted his breathing almost uncomfortably, but strangely the pressure relieved the pain in his side the more he moved. A blood transfusion line was hooked up to his arm, likely the reason he felt far more energized than he had been the last time he'd woken up. By the looks of the almost empty bag hanging above him, he would be getting a visit from the facility's medics soon. He was alone in his room for the moment, though, and he preferred it that way.

He hesitated a few brief minutes, making sure he hadn't earned any attention from the nurses passing by in the hall before he began to unhook himself from the monitors and IV lines he found attached to himself. He moved easily enough as he stood from his bed, though he could feel his muscles still slightly shaking from their weakened state. A pair of plain trousers and boots he spotted neatly arranged on a chair by the door weren't familiar, but they would suffice for proper attire in his haste to leave. He wasn't about to stick around long enough for another lecture from his former partner, nor would he allow her to waste any more of his time. He had his daughter to find...and her kidnapper to kill.

The hall beyond his room was only sparsely populated as he slowly peered out, and thankfully he saw no one he knew. With only a quick survey, he deduced the quickest path for his escape, so long as the Paneau facility was laid out as most were. He took in and released a slow breath to stifle his increasing pain, and setting his jaw, he set out for the hangar, stealing a heavy jacket off an unattended desk in the hall and donning it as he went.

No one seemed to pay him any mind as he walked with purpose, perhaps because of the intense expression he maintained on his face, or perhaps because they had been warned of or maybe even seen his dangerous, volatile nature. He could still hear Adalia's voice, fearfully telling him that Jewel had been taken, resounding in his head and torturing him endlessly, and he could feel the same fury swelling within him once more with every step he took. Had he been armed, he might have blasted his way through the hall to the hangar, refusing to suffer any impedance, intentional or not. Luckily for everyone else, he was equipped with none of his usual gear, a fact he'd remedy by stealing the right ship.

Trusting his instincts had led him straight to the hangar as he had hoped, and with a careful glance behind himself, he made sure he hadn't been followed before he continued inside, closing the lumbering door behind him. He had half a mind to break the control pad in half before it sealed, preventing anyone from coming after him for some time, but he wasn't sure he could spare the energy. His abdominal wall was on _fire_ through every breath, threatening to steal his focus entirely, but he fought through it with everything he had left.

For Jewel, he centered himself.

He had a ship to pilot, and surprisingly spotting one he recognized, he stepped over to it, running his fingers along its smooth, familiar exterior. Its loading ramp descended for him on command, as he knew it would, he just hadn't expected to suddenly find it so difficult to board it. He hesitated, unable to move for some reason, his legs heavy as durasteel...as they had been once before, years ago, when he had tried to run.

He _wasn't_ running, he told himself over and over again, glancing back at the closed hangar door, beyond which lay his partner and his ailing son. He couldn't do anything useful for either of them; he was no medic, and they should only blame him for their injuries and for the loss of their little girl. They wouldn't want him anywhere near them, and he couldn't fault them. No, he reasoned, he needed to do whatever he could to earn their trust back, if it was even possible, and he had to find Jewel. He had to find her soon.

Overcoming his mental block with an impulsive strike of his closed fist against the hull, he finally stepped up into the ship, a smaller but versatile cargo hauler, and surveyed its contents. Though it had been almost two years since he'd last seen it, its interior was just as he remembered it; no added frills, no personal markings, merely utilitarian and functional. Up in the cockpit, the fuel gauge read nearly full, another fortuitous discovery. He half felt that his luck was contrived, that it had been intentionally laid out for him to find as he had...but he shook the thought from his head, feeling fatigue already getting the better of him. He began the startup sequence, priming the fuel lines and engines in quick succession to get the ship airborne before anyone could stop him. He even charged the laser cannons, just in case...

A strange feeling in the back of his mind gave him pause. Every fiber in his being told him to ignore it, to continue prepping the ship, to dismiss it as a creation of his oxygen-deprived mind. He hadn't been followed, the hangar door hadn't opened again once he'd closed it, there wasn't anyone else in that hangar with him. His guilt had generated a shadow to torment him and punish him...but still, the feeling lingered. The ship was nearly ready, he could activate the repulsors and cruise out into open space at any moment...

...but he slowly turned to see his former partner, standing just beyond the cockpit, silent and motionless as he.


	6. Chapter 6

Horatio blinked, not entirely uncertain he wasn't just imagining her standing there, as she had yet to say a word or move. He would have expected a flurry of condemnation, berating him for leaving so quickly before he'd had the chance to recover, before he'd said goodbye to Liaa or Wil...but she merely studied him, little to no expression on her face. Did she expect him to collapse? Apologize? Attack her instead?

As a test, he took a few steps closer to her, keeping his expression intense as he held her gaze, but she refused to yield. His anger took over once more at her silence, and with one hand, he reached up and grabbed her shoulder, forcefully shoving her aside as he continued on past her to the rear hatch. The movement severely aggravated his side, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing his grimace. She'd have to physically restrain him to keep him from leaving.

"Get the hell off my ship, Kil."

He could hear her footsteps behind him, following him at a patient pace, but it was her calm voice that enraged him further. "It's not your ship. It's Wil's."

"I bought it," he continued with a low tone, turning around to challenge her. "I gave it to him. It's still mine." He couldn't steady his voice for long, though. "He's not using it right now, anyway."

Something akin to pity rolled across her face before she could correct it, forcing him to look away. He remained in a strange state of conflict; he couldn't believe that his son had survived his wounds, wounds that he had seen and felt himself as he cradled Wil in his hold, but neither could he bring himself to accept that he had lost his son, as well. It was too much to handle all at once.

"I made you a promise," Mand continued softly, maintaining her distance. "I told you that I would do everything I could to help you find Jewel. That's why I'm here."

His side throbbed even more the angrier he became. "And I told you to leave."

A tense silence stretched between them, testing Horatio's patience to its limit. She knew better than to provoke him, especially in his foul state, but still she stayed, her voice warm with compassion. "Horatio...you know that you are in no condition to do any of this alone. Your side was ripped open by a detonator blast. You can hardly stand upright. You lost a considerable amount of blood, and I know you've only gotten a small portion of it back. I want nothing more than to help you, but you have to _let_ me."

But he shook his head firmly. "No. This happened because of _my_ failures. This is _my_ family, _my_ wreck that I have to clean up."

"I know you feel that way," she soothed, "but - "

He snapped, leveling his rage at her directly. "You don't know a _damn_ thing about what I feel!"

"I have been in your shoes!" she returned just as fervently, unwilling to back down. "I know _exactly_ where your head is at, because mine was once there, too!"

Refusing to suffer her pitying gaze, he turned and walked away down the corridor, but she followed him and continued with a softer, pleading tone. "Jewel is...quite a bit younger than Cordira was, I will grant you that. But I had another concern to compound everything. Cordira was pregnant when she was taken. Yes, our situations may not be exactly the same, but I know what's going through your mind right now. Let me be the guidance you need - "

"You know _nothing_ about what I need!" he yelled. His entire body shook with fury as he whirled around to face her again, unable to restrain his emotion. "You have _no idea_ what I'm going through! I already told you once to leave my ship, Kil. If I have to tell you again, I'm throwing you out the airlock _myself!"_

Practically face to face with her, towering over her, he fumed and trembled intensely. He wasn't about to fold and accept her help; he didn't need it, and he couldn't allow himself to be responsible for another person's pain. He'd done enough damage already.

Mand stood her ground, though, motionless as she held his gaze. She seemed to be awaiting...something from him. Another outburst, another ultimatum, or maybe even a physical response from him that she would have to counter. He managed to withhold himself, somehow, despite how desperately he felt like tearing something, _anything_ apart with his bare hands. He had to save that for Jewel's kidnapper.

Her voice, however, remained so exasperatingly placid. "Your anger is not with me, Horatio. You haven't allowed yourself time to work through your grief, through your guilt, so you can't clear your head right now. I _know_ what that suffocating haze feels like. It took me three days before I was ready to leave Paneau after Cordira was taken."

"I'm not you," he seethed, emphasizing every word to distract himself from his intensely aching side. "I don't get to use the Force like a crutch. I don't get to hide behind my lightsaber every time something goes wrong. We are _nothing_ alike."

As if a switch had been flipped, her eyes sharpened as her gaze bored into him. It was her emotional words, though, that cut him to the quick, and he deeply felt every single point she made, much to his dismay.

"I know that strangling guilt...that smothering burden you feel because you know that your past, that your terrible mistakes are the reason that your innocent children are suffering.

"I know that paralyzing helplessness...that agonizing defeat knowing that you completely failed to protect them, to keep any harm from coming to them, even though you thought you'd done everything you could.

"I know that mind-numbing hopelessness...that inescapable, torturous fear that you won't be good enough, strong enough, to rescue them, to save them in time, because you've already failed them once." She paused only briefly to let her words sink in, blinking back faint tears as her voice shook. "Tell me I'm wrong, Horatio. Tell me that you feel _none_ of that...and I will leave."

His legs felt weak underneath him, poised to give way and collapse him at any moment, but he fought through it, fueled by his rage. It infuriated him how right she was, and how aptly she had described everything he was experiencing. He was such a fool for so brazenly denying their similarities when he knew just how closely they were related; he had even been party to Cordira's rescue and recovery himself and had seen firsthand the heartfelt relief Mand experienced. He was beginning to see that he had been blinded and deafened by the onslaught of despair he'd felt since he had held Wil in his arms outside his home, and it aggravated him even more. He couldn't argue with her, but he was so stubbornly determined to prove to her that he was capable of maintaining his composure, that he wasn't suffering severe mental and emotional strain that threatened to fracture his mind, that he was able to mount a rescue attempt entirely on his own...

But his old, wounded body betrayed him. The pain in his side sharpened so suddenly, it stole his breath as he grabbed it and fell to his knees. Mand reacted quickly and reached out to steady him, but he shed her grip as he regained his breath, his pain subsiding the longer he pressed his hand against it. He took a moment more before he responded, making certain that he could put any measurable strength behind his words.

"Fine," he ceded reluctantly, slowly getting back to his feet. "But you had better decide now how you're going to deal with this: when I find the man who took Jewel, who hurt Wil...I _will_ kill him."

Mand met his gaze with a resolute one of her own. "You know I won't let you do that. He will get what he deserves - justice, not revenge."

Drawing himself back up to his full height, he looked down at her, motionless, resolved as he'd never been before. "Don't get in my way, or I won't hesitate to kill you, too."

"Yes, you will."

Her flippant response surprised him, but he couldn't manage a reply before she continued. "You _will_ hesitate. You won't hurt me."

He reacted before he'd even formulated the thought. In an instant, his arms reached up and gripped her at her shoulders, shoving her back against the wall with force as he pressed his forearm against her throat to stun her. "We can test that, _right now_."

She made no move to defend herself, no reflex to retaliate, and even with a restricted airway, she held his gaze, unwavering.

"...I am not afraid of you."

His voice was as dark and intense as his eyes. " _You should be_."

A faint blue glow suddenly appearing just beside his face earned his attention, but only after a few moments did he finally turn to look at it. It was a small holo of some kind of craft, being cast into the air by a portable projector Mand held in her hand. He studied it briefly, unfamiliar with its design. "...what is that?"

Her breath caught in her throat, leading him to finally lower his arm from her. She recovered gracefully with only a small gasp, showing no ill will towards him as she answered him calmly. "It's a scan of the ship we think left Dantooine with Jewel. Do you recognize it?"

His hand found his aching side once more, desperate curiosity slowly tempering his fury. "No. Do you?"

Mand shook her head. "No. But I think our first move should be to take it to someone who might."

"Who?"

"Wil's brother, Malin." She focused briefly on something distant. "I think Wil knew who he was following. He knew who was coming for Jewel. He didn't tell us anything in his distress call, but...if there's anyone he _did_ tell, it would be Malin."

With another glance at the holo in Mand's hand, Horatio returned to the cockpit, not waiting for anything further from her as he fired up the engines to leave.

"We're wasting time."

* * *

A deep, merciless pain was first to greet him as his consciousness slowly returned to him. Though his mind remained locked in a cloudy haze, Wil could feel his chest protest fiercely with every slow, calculated breath he took. He wasn't sure how he managed it, but a pained groan escaped his lips and thankfully got the attention of someone nearby.

"Wil?"

It was a familiar voice, a comforting sound in his confusion and disorientation, though it wasn't until he opened his eyes and forced them to focus that he was finally able to speak, albeit extremely weakly. "...Master?"

Master Natiyr smiled warmly down at him, relief well evident in his voice as he stood at his side with a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Welcome back, son. We almost lost you." His patched left eye caught Wil's attention even as his clouded right eye seemed to scan over him intently. "How are you feeling?"

The words were difficult to form. "Chest...on fire..."

Master Natiyr nodded sympathetically, gently placing his palm in the center of Wil's chest. "Residual discomfort from your surgery. I'll take care of it."

His mind didn't seem too eager to work, though. "...surgery?"

"Do you remember what happened?"

He managed to shake his head slightly before he realized, or maybe he remembered, that the kind Master Healer could not see. "No."

"We arrived on Dantooine just after you and your father had been attacked by some unknown man. We never saw him, but...he took Jewel. We were hoping you could tell us who he was."

Briefly unsure if he had heard Master Natiyr correctly, Wil closed his eyes tightly, willing something, _anything_ to come to recall. He couldn't even decipher where he was at the moment; his memory was firmly incarcerated and refused to function, and it frustrated him immensely. He had already failed Jewel once, it seemed, and he was continuing to fail her now. Some Ghost Heir he was turning out to be.

Master Natiyr's soft voice brought him back to the present. "Your body is still recovering, Wil; have patience. It'll come back to you. Honestly, I'm amazed that you're even awake right now. You shouldn't have survived that kind of blood loss, either, but...you Sheridans continue to surprise me."

"My dad," Wil managed faintly, seeing brief flashes of his father's pained face hovering over his, "...is he okay?"

Master Natiyr hesitated briefly. "Depends on your definition of 'okay'. He was...quite distraught when he left yesterday, and not completely healed. My wife went with him to help him look for Jewel, so she should be able to keep him...stable. Hopefully."

The whole situation left him feeling...worthless. He hardly had the strength to move, so what good would he be to the search for his missing sister? If only he could remember what happened, remember what he could just almost see in the back of his mind, what was only just beyond his reach...

Irritated at himself, he slowly tracked his gaze away from his friend to the other side of the room, his head falling that same direction. It wasn't long before he noticed a blanket crumpled on a chair just beside him, and it puzzled him. The blanket looked to have been used, wrapped around someone and then carelessly cast aside. He didn't think it had been laid on him, since he was already well covered by one, but rather -

"You've had a vigilant friend at your side," Master Natiyr observed casually, somehow aware of Wil's focus. "She stayed in that chair, never once leaving you after you came out of the bacta tank, until I forced her to go. She needed to get some proper rest, so I sent her to one of the sleeping quarters down the hall."

Returning his gaze to the Jedi Master, Wil remained confused as to whom he was alluding, wracking his frazzled mind over who he could mean, until -

"... _Embrey._ "

Master Natiyr nodded with a comforting smile. "She's okay. I'll make sure she's taken care of, Wil, I promise. And don't worry," he added softly with unexpected warmth, "...your secret's safe with me."

Wil could feel every frantic pulse of his heartbeat against his aching chest wall. Embrey wasn't supposed to be...wherever he was; she was supposed to have stayed on Paneau, out of harm's way and certainly not at his side after he'd barely survived an attack by some unknown assailant. She was...more important to him than he could say...but of course the perceptive Master had discerned why. At least he could trust that she would have a friendly, attentive eye on her, so to speak, when Wil himself couldn't leave his own bed.

Master Natiyr moved his hand to Wil's shoulder once more. "Your recovery should be your only focus right now, Wil. Rest, and your memories will return to you. It's the best thing you can do for Jewel, and for yourself."

Despite wanting to do anything else but, Wil nodded faintly, his eyelids heavily closing. "Thank you, Master."

"Of course. Anything for you Rys'tihns."

Sleep easily descended on him, but he held tightly to thoughts of Embrey's enchanting smile, her dark curly hair, and her pleasant laugh as he drifted.


	7. Chapter 7

As tortured as the silence was in the _Shadow Nova_ 's cockpit as they traveled through hyperspace for hours, Mand surprisingly wasn't the first to speak since they'd left.

"You had better find something else to stare at, Kil."

Her retort had already escaped her lips before she could stop herself. "Or you'll throw me out the airlock?"

Her antagonistic reference to his earlier threat elicited little to no response from him, indicating to her his ongoing foul mood, or worse, his declining physical condition. He hardly moved in his seat, even seeming to breathe as little as possible, and it worried her. She hadn't intended to fixate on him as she had, as he had apparently noticed though his own gaze was locked out the viewport in front of them, but she remained so perplexed, so curious about the sequence of events had brought them together again. It had been almost eight years since they'd last seen each other, and so much had changed, for both of them, since then...

"...why didn't you tell us about Jewel, Horatio?"

His voice was flat. "Because I didn't want to."

She had expected as much. As private as he had been about his family and anything else important to him, he wasn't the type to have made public announcements about those he kept closest to himself. But the exclusion still hurt Mand; she had long considered Wil part of her family, and despite their rough past and after what he had done for Cordira, she had welcomed Horatio, as well. He hadn't been as eager to accept her invitation, though, and apparently he still struggled to let his guard down and trust others.

"I didn't tell _anyone_ about her," he continued unexpectedly after a few moments, still looking out the viewport. "The fewer people who knew about her, the better. At least...so I thought..."

"You know we would have offered her protection in a heartbeat."

He finally turned to meet her gaze. "The same protection you offered Wil?"

As unfair as his accusation was, she remained silent. Wil was a Rys'tihn Royal by his mother, and since his arrival on Paneau at the age of two, he had been under the constant vigil of an ever-watchful covert guard. He had slyly subverted that guard for the second time on his journey to Dantooine, and it had, like the first, very nearly gotten him killed. She could appreciate his distrust.

A second time, though, he surprised her with his willingness to continue. "I promised her," he managed weakly, his voice trembling as he looked away from her. "I told her I wouldn't let anything happen to her."

Mand released a slow breath, readying herself to share her own struggle she had told only a handful of her closest friends. "That's one of the easiest promises to make, but it's also the most difficult one to keep. Even me, with my 'Force crutch,' as you call it... I knew couldn't bring myself to say it to Cordira, no matter how desperately I wanted to, because I knew there was no way I could follow through on it.

"They tried to take her away from me, before she was even born. I realized very quickly, before I'd even seen her face, or held her hand, that I would have to fight for her for her entire life. And so I have.

"And I've made mistakes. Hundreds of them. She nearly paid for those mistakes with her life. And so did I. But she's been right there with me, fighting as best she knows how... And if Jewel is anything like you, I know she's going to be fighting, too.

"So you do the best you can, as long as you can. You surround yourself and your children with friends and people willing to help. The wider your safety net, the faster those friends can come to your aid wherever and whenever you need it. I know you don't want to trust us, but...Horatio, _please_ believe me when I tell you, any of us Natiyrs and Rys'tihns will always do anything we can to help you, Liaa, Wil, or Jewel. Anything."

She studied him intently as he remained motionless beside her, seeming to be carefully considering her words, or maybe even ignoring them entirely. She couldn't quite tell by the blank expression on his face just how he was going to react until he finally spoke, nearly at a whisper.

"It's not you I don't trust."

Though it puzzled her, she couldn't probe further. A proximity alert sounded throughout the cockpit, announcing the end of their jump to Paneau. She righted herself at the controls and pulled the _Shadow Nova_ out of hyperspace, and the planet's familiar blue and green marbled surface filled the viewport. It was just a short dive down through the atmosphere to the peaceful main continent, and within minutes they were beyond the capital city of Dalon and headed towards the Naeron Mountains where the Rys'tihn Retreat was hidden away.

"I still don't understand why we had to come all this way just to talk to him," Horatio grumbled. "This trip has taken so much time we could've spent going elsewhere to look for Jewel."

"There are a number of things the Ghost Heirs won't discuss with us over transmissions of any kind, secured or not," Mand returned, effortlessly settling the ship down in the Retreat's hangar. "A semi-Ghost Heir relative is one of them."

Mand watched as Horatio held his side to stand from his seat, grimacing only slightly as he moved and left the ship ahead of her. He wouldn't allow himself to heal, she knew, so she made a mental note to insist on checking his bandages before they left for their next excursion. He would deny her concern and refuse her aid, as he always had, until he collapsed again; she could only hope to intervene before he reached that critical point.

Though Mand knew that Wil's half-brother Malin was in his early thirties, the Rys'tihn man who approached them in the hangar wore a worried expression that acutely aged him. Horatio noticeably slowed as Malin neared, perhaps afraid of Malin's retaliation for his younger brother's dire state, but Mand quickly commanded his attention, reaching out and pulling him into an embrace.

"Malin," she greeted him warmly as she stepped back from him, gripping him at his shoulders. "Rech hasn't left his side, I promise you."

But Malin wasted little time, already eager to address the reason for their visit. "Aunt Elena said you have a scan of the ship?"

Mand nodded, pulling the projector out of her jacket pocket to display it for him. He scoured over every line of the holo, watching as it slowly spun in the air above Mand's hand, but his shoulders sagged visibly as his expression fell to match. He shook his head needlessly, looking to both of them after a moment. "Neither of you know it?"

"No, we don't," Mand sighed. "Malin, did Wil tell you _anything_ about someone he thought might be after Jewel or any of the Sheridans recently? I think that he had to know something before he left for Dantooine, something that made him call for help. He had to have had some kind of idea of what was about to happen."

Malin only looked more reticent. "He never told me anything. I didn't even know he'd left Paneau until I got the relay alert the covert agents sent me in response to his distress call. They converged on his location, and I couldn't give them any intel. I was as blind as they were."

"Do you have access to any of his research or data logs?"

Again Malin shook his head. "He's practically his own covert agent now, only he doesn't report to anyone. He has complete autonomy and anonymity on our networks if he chooses."

Frustrated with the lack of anything helpful so far, Mand stole a brief glance at Horatio before continuing, somehow keeping the exasperation out of her voice. "Is there _anything_ you can think of that might point us in the right direction? Something he might have mentioned off hand, something odd that got his attention, anything that may seem out of the ordinary to you?"

"The _only_ thing I know he was involved in recently," he paused, turning to Horatio, "...was looking into a relative of yours, Mr. Sheridan."

Horatio's gaze sharpened as he focused on Malin, engaged in the conversation for the first time since they'd arrived. He seemed reluctant to speak. "...a relative of mine?"

Malin nodded. "I wasn't able to get out of him who it was, and I haven't had time to investigate on my own. He kept it to himself."

The sudden dark tone in Horatio's voice was jarring. "I grew up an orphan on Coruscant. My sister is dead. I haven't seen or heard from either of my nephews in more than twe-"

Stopping mid-word, Horatio froze in place, having come to a sudden realization. His face became pale, concerning Mand even more every second he went without taking a new breath. Had his blood pressure bottomed out?

"...Horatio?"

She gripped his arm gently to steady him as he wavered, and her touch immediately brought him back to himself. He glanced between her and Malin for a moment before he elaborated, albeit reluctantly. "Right before Jewel was born...I thought I had come across some information on my nephew Max."

"Soran Redgrave's son," Mand clarified, remembering their run in with the spice mogul well, and Horatio nodded.

"But by the time I got to where I thought he'd be, Max wasn't anywhere to be found. I was too late. Wil asked about him a few months later, but I told him to steer clear of anything to do with Soran or his spice group. Soran was the last person I wanted getting his sights on Wil. He's incredibly dangerous, and I _told_ Wil that a dozen times. If Soran found out that Wil was looking into him or Max...taking Jewel wouldn't be out of character for his preferred method of payback."

Mand's breath froze in her chest. If it was true, that Soran had hired some mercenary or hunter to kidnap Jewel in retaliation for Wil's probe...then they had little time to spare. Their search for Jewel had only become more dire.

"I'll send agents to every corner of the galaxy," Malin pledged, already withdrawing a data pad from his pocket. "She'll be our highest priority."

But Horatio held up his hand to stop him. "No, don't. If Soran really is the one who has Jewel...he'll tear your agents apart the second they get anywhere near him. Keep them away from him, from any of his spicers."

Briefly stunned, Malin stared a moment before looking to Mand for confirmation. She weakly nodded to confirm Horatio's mandate, and Malin only appeared more defeated. She could see in his eyes that he so desperately wanted to help, but Horatio had flat out denied him the chance. She gripped his arm in a gesture of support, and she had begun to make another suggestion when Horatio abruptly turned and left them, returning to their ship without a word. His behavior was only going to become more erratic, she feared, but she would have to do what she could to calm him.

"Have your agents keep a lookout for that ship," she requested quickly as she palmed him the holo projector and turned to follow Horatio. "We'll be in touch."

Malin nodded, already on his way, too. "Be careful out there, Master."

By the time she had caught up to him inside the _Shadow Nova_ , Horatio stood just outside the cockpit with his back to her, his left hand pressed against his side, and his right tightly clenched and shaking at his hip. She allowed him some distance, not needing the Force to tell her how dangerously enraged he'd become, but she still wasn't prepared for how quickly he pulled his right arm back and cried out, throwing everything he had into a powerful punch against the durasteel wall. She gave a startled gasp, hearing the sickening _snap_ of a bone in his hand breaking from the trauma, and it tore at her heart even further. He kept his knuckles pressed against the wall as he drew in unsteady breaths, and though she knew she was potentially risking her own safety...she reached out and gently placed a hand on his back, calling on the Force to ease his pain.

So much fear, worry, uncertainty, and anger freely flowed from him, draining her own composure, but she took it all; the faster he released it, the quicker she could calm him so he'd allow her to tend to his wounds. After a number of agonizing minutes, he willingly walked with her toward the rear hold, laying himself down on a padded bench without any prompt from her. He was pale again, she noticed, his injuries having worn down his stamina, and she could only do so much to remedy it.

Looking him over, she quickly tended to his split knuckles, dabbing a light layer of bacta onto them with a cloth to stop the bleeding. His broken hand she'd have to splint, but only after she'd seen to his side. She quickly discovered that he'd already been bleeding for some time; the stain on his shirt over the bandages had darkened and browned, frustrating her that he'd actively hidden it from her as they had traveled. Was he just in denial of how truly injured he remained, or had he just been that oblivious to it? He stared blankly up at the ceiling as she worked, hardly reacting to her tugging on the seal around his bloody bandages, and just as she moved to replace them with a bacta patch, he reacted, grabbing her wrist with his good hand.

"No bacta patch."

"Horatio - "

"No," he repeated firmly. "No patch. The smell will give me away."

Mand blinked. "What? Horatio, you've reopened your wound a _third_ time now, and you're worried about a _smell?"_

His eyes finally focused on her, sharp as she'd yet seen them. "I know where we can find Soran."


	8. Chapter 8

Mand held her breath, waiting for him to elaborate, but he briefly retracted his words.

"I mean, I know _how_ we can find him. Soran boasted that he had a number of bounty hunters permanently on his payroll, and I know one of their names. We should go to the Bounty Hunters' Guild and get information from them. They could tell us where he is."

She wasn't sure she had heard him correctly. Was he truly that delirious? She could hardly keep the incredulity out of her voice. "...you want us to walk into a den of hunters...intentionally...and just _ask_ them to give up a high-profile client of theirs?"

"They're hunters, Kil. Their loyalties lie with credits, whoever pays them the most. They'll tell us whatever we want to know if we offer them the right amount."

As much as she could agree with his point, she sighed and shook her head. "It's too risky. We don't even know for sure if Soran was the one who had Jewel taken."

"And this is a way we can find out - "

"Horatio!" she interrupted him, desperate to get him to see reason. "We have to be smart about how we proceed. The two of us showing up out of nowhere and demanding information on a dangerous spice mogul, the very same man who left both of us to _die_ in an empty asteroid mine twenty years ago, is _not_ smart. We will only attract attention, the wrong kind, and we won't be any help to Jewel if we get ourselves caught in a situation we can't fix."

"Do you have any better ideas, then?" he charged angrily. "Should we just wait around for Wil to wake up, and _maybe_ he'll remember what we need to know? Jewel doesn't have that kind of time. We have to find her, _now._ We _have_ to go to the Guild."

She held his gaze defiantly, entirely certain that he couldn't have come up with a more ridiculous, foolhardy plan...but also afraid that, like he had said, they truly had no other choice. She was supposed to be his voice of reason, his mindful buffer to keep him from doing something completely inadvisable or dangerous, but she felt herself inexplicably siding with him, and it wearied her. If a hunter had indeed been contracted to kidnap Jewel on Soran's behalf, she and Horatio could potentially get information straight from the source. But what would that information cost? Nevermind the sheer amount of credits, the two of them would definitely have their work cut out for them. Neither had been involved in the criminal underworld for years; would they be able to navigate their way through the Bounty Hunters' Guild tactfully, blending in with some of the most ruthless hunters and mercenaries in the galaxy? Or would they be immediately exposed?

"Yes, Soran left us behind when he packed up his production line in the Paneau sector and disappeared," Horatio ceded, needlessly reminding her of the death sentence they'd narrowly escaped. "He was punishing two spicers he'd discovered were stealing from him, and yeah, we were damn lucky he was in a hurry and was distracted enough to not finish the job himself. He had hired, and killed, Tol and Pel A'Hearn, as far as he knows. Kasimir and Killian Vasch are still out there."

Taking in and releasing a slow breath, Mand closed her eyes briefly, hoping with every bit of sanity she had left that they weren't making a terrible mistake. If he was going to go anyway, with or without her approval, at least she could stay with him and manage his recklessness along the way.

"One condition," she answered with a weary voice. "You let me do the talking."

"But I'm - "

" _You let me do the talking_."

Horatio clenched his jaw, clearly unwilling to relinquish control. She refused to back down, as well, as she narrowed her eyes, daring him to challenge her, but finally he nodded. She hardly felt at ease with the decision, and neither spoke as she continued to dress his side before they left for the Mid Rim's Ottega System.

* * *

Registering a delicate touch lightly brushing circles against the back of his hand brought Wil slowly out of his slumber. It was a relaxing, calming feeling, and even without recognizing her familiar floral scent, he already knew who it was that sat beside him, and it brought a weak smile to his face before he'd even opened his eyes.

He took in a slow breath as he carefully turned his head toward her, afraid the movement would cause him pain. Without any noticeable discomfort, though, his smile broadened, and he looked up at her as she, too, met his gaze.

"Em..."

Embrey's golden amber eyes sparkled briefly with building tears she quickly tamed. "Hi, my handsome Ghost."

He gently gripped her hand in his, studying her weary features intently. It was the pain in her voice that worried him, though, leading his own expression to fall. "...are you okay?"

She furrowed her brows. "Wil...I'm not the one that had a hole in my heart." But he remained expectant, eager for her answer, and she rolled her eyes with a weak sigh. "Yes, I'm fine. Master Natiyr made me rest, and I got more than eight hours of sleep, so I'm perfectly good. But I don't want you to worry about me right now, Wil. Please."

He couldn't agree to her request, so he remained silent, and thankfully she continued after a brief moment. "What about you? How are _you_ feeling?"

A faint smile returned to his face. "I'm alright. Not nearly as sore as I was earlier. I just still feel so...weak."

Embrey nodded, glancing at the lines of fluid hanging over his head. "You lost so much blood, but they're slowly getting it back into you. It'll take time, but you'll get your energy back."

"Have they found Jewel?"

She was so reluctant to answer, he briefly feared the worst. "We haven't heard back from your father yet. He and Mand left Paneau two days ago... They didn't tell us where they went."

His heart fell to his stomach as he looked away. It had already been three days since Jewel had been taken, he'd been told, so how much longer could a five-year-old survive in the custody of a bounty hunter, or worse? Would he get his memory back in time to be of any help to those who were out searching for her?

Sensing his distress, Embrey lightly ran her fingers down his cheek. "Wil..."

"I failed her on Dantooine," he breathed weakly, his eyes no longer focusing. "Just like I'm failing her now."

"Wil, _stop_. This was _not_ your fault. You did not fail her...your father did. And he failed you, too."

He swallowed as he returned to her, regretting upsetting her. They'd already had this particular discussion about his father before, he remembered that much. "Em..."

But she continued, her words short and full of emotion. "You nearly gave your life for her. You almost died, _twice_ , while they tried to repair your heart. You did _everything_ you possibly could have done for your sister, even after your father cut you out of her life. It is not your fault that you had to try to defend her without knowing all the variables. For that, the blame rests entirely on him, not you."

He gently squeezed her hand. "He did what he thought was best for her. I know you don't agree - "

"You don't, either!"

"No, I don't," he ceded sadly, "but I do understand what he was trying to accomplish. He was trying to protect us both."

Tears had returned to her eyes, but they defiantly remained unshed. "Wil...he hurt you. I know what that did to you. I was right there with you, I felt your pain with you. I know you want to think the best of him, but...I can't forgive him. Not for this. Not after his...his _arrogance_ almost got you killed."

He could appreciate her anger on his behalf, but it only wearied him. Intent on diffusing her frustration, he lifted her hand from his side up to his lips, gently kissing it. "He's not your dad, you don't have to forgive him. Just...don't hurt him when he comes back, okay? He does that enough to himself."

Only slightly amused by his gesture and his request, she sighed heavily to release her tension, tightening her fingers around his as she gazed at him. "...you deserve better."

He grinned. "That's why I have you."

The rest of her anger disappeared as she shook her head and gave a light, embarrassed laugh, a sound he savored knowing he'd almost heard it for the last time just a few days ago. He adored everything about her, as he'd told her frequently over the past months, and he wanted no one else at his side as he recovered. Once he could, he'd join the search for his sister, aided by Embrey's wisdom and guidance...

"...Thaylan's convinced you're going to kill him when he gets back."

Wil blinked, surprised by the divergent topic. "What? Why?"

"Because he _allowed_ me to leave Paneau and come here," she returned with a playful eye roll. "I told him he had no business ordering me around, because I - "

"...I sent that call to you directly."

Immediately meeting his gaze, Embrey's eyes widened with realization as she held her breath. Her reaction confused him until he arrived at the same conclusion in a daze - he had _finally_ remembered something important. He could hardly breathe.

"Wil, you remember!"

"I sent that call to you," he repeated as he nodded, desperately clinging to the fleeting flashes of that moment. "And to the Natiyrs."

He had her full attention. "What else?"

But it had all started to dissolve, despite his total focus. He closed his eyes, bringing a hand to his head as if he could hold his memories in and keep them from leaving him. "I...I don't know. It's so fuzzy... I was already sitting in my ship. The comm panel, it was the _Shadow_ _Nova_ 's. But...I don't know why I sent those messages..."

"Did you get some kind of warning?"

He sighed. "I can't remember. Can you bring me the transmission log?"

"...your father took your ship."

Defeated, he closed his eyes again, wracking his brain for anything else he could cling to. He was so frustrated, so annoyed by his inoperable mind, it had finally begun to take a toll on him physically. Embrey gently ran her fingers through his hair in an effort to calm him.

"Easy, Wil," she soothed, worriedly glancing at the vitals monitors above his head. "Please relax. It'll come to you when you're not trying so hard..."

His chest began to deeply ache again, rapidly increasing his breathing rate and sending him into a brief panic - until he felt a heavy hand on his opposite shoulder. He looked up to see Master Natiyr wordlessly at his side once more, effortlessly healing and calming him with the Force. Wil was nothing but grateful for the wise Master's keen intuition that seemed to bring him to his side when he required attention, without any hesitation, and without any restraint.

In only a few short minutes, Wil was already feeling much less anxious, and his chest pain had all but dissipated. It allowed him to release slow breaths and calm himself the rest of the way, his racing mind more fully under his control once more. His vitals monitors had quieted, as well, much to Embrey's visible relief. Sensing his work was done, Master Natiyr lifted his hand from Wil's shoulder, slowly turning to leave without his sightless gaze meeting either of theirs.

"Thank you, Master," Wil offered sincerely, but he continued on out of the room as silent as he had entered, nodding to him with a faint smile as he turned down the hall.

"...can he be your dad instead?"

Wil rolled his eyes with a weak grin. "He has enough on his plate with Cordira's two kids. He doesn't need me to add to the pile."

"And yet, here he is, taking care of you like a dad should. Or at least...like a very close uncle would."

Drained by the brief healing session, Wil could only give a short, light laugh in response, enjoying the silence as she continued to run her fingers through his hair. It was one of his favorite sensations, and one of her favorite habits, he'd come to treasure in their brief intimate encounters. More often than not, the time they spent together was during training, or on an important intel op, and very rarely were they alone together. Depending on how the next few months went, hopefully that would change.

"I hate seeing you like this," she breathed, her voice suddenly weak with worry. "You shouldn't have gone alone..."

"Em..."

"I know you wouldn't have let me go with you, but...you could've pulled Thaylan, Nevo, or even your own brother, just _somebody_ so you wouldn't have faced that hunter by yourself."

A second wave of memories suddenly cascaded through his thoughts, briefly drowning him in the rush of images. He saw himself in his ship, making swift hyperspace calculations, then arriving on Dantooine in the heavy storm, encountering the hunter inside, following him outside for a final clash, collapsing as his father slowed his fall... He couldn't get his words out fast enough.

"I didn't have time to wait. I _couldn't_ wait. Em...the message I got...it...it was anonymous, but all it said was, ' _Protect her, now_ ', and it gave me the coordinates. Dantooine. And I was already nearby. I knew I couldn't wait for help. I sent that signal to you and to the Natiyrs, then I flew as fast as I could. I had to go, right then. I just knew."

Stunned by everything he had just unloaded on her, Embrey hardly breathed. "Someone _did_ warn you..."

He nodded, still processing it all himself. "I was...I was already nearby, in the Ottega System. Why, why was I there... Who would have warned me?"

Unsure herself, Embrey shook her head. "We really need your ship's nav and transmission logs."

"I can track it. Dad wouldn't have known where I hid the transponder - "

"Wil - "

" - and he sure won't know how to disable it, at least, not the right way - "

"Wil!" she forcefully interrupted him. "You're not going anywhere!"

Brought back down from his frenzied state, he let go of a short breath, yielding to her once more in his weakened condition. Thankfully she didn't allow him to dwell on it long.

"Give me the transponder code," she offered gently. "I'll get Thaylan on it right away."

He held her gaze a long, silent moment, working up the courage to volley her own mandate back to her. "...you're not going anywhere, either."

Though it was plainly difficult for her to accept, as she'd repeatedly been ordered around by her friends and family already, she eventually nodded. He wasn't expecting, however, for her to carefully lean herself over him, meeting her lips to his in a sweet, effortless kiss. It left him breathless as she adjusted her body with slight discomfort and sat back down beside him, holding tightly to his hand.

"I'll stay here with you."

Her pledge both pleased him and worried him, knowing she wouldn't rest well with either option. She kept to her word, though, handing him a datapad from her pocket to send the information to her brother without leaving his side.


	9. Chapter 9

Though she knew Horatio still hadn't healed as much as he should have, Mand relinquished the _Shadow Nova_ 's controls to him as they navigated the Ottega System's outer reaches. A number of inert moons and debris fields littered their path into the sector, requiring manual flight the autonav couldn't handle. Despite his ongoing discomfort, Horatio maneuvered the nimble ship well enough. Effortlessly, even.

"...you've been here before, haven't you?"

He maintained his gaze straight out the viewport, electing to ignore her, but she remained curious. "You know the Guild occasionally moves around. This compound seems almost too easy to get t- "

"The Guild has been here for almost three decades."

Finally reaching a momentary clearing, Horatio eased himself back in his seat, moving little else as he flipped autonav back on. "After my sister died...I found out she'd sent her son Aalon to live with another hunter family. She didn't trust that Tzymo would leave me alone after she was gone, so..." he trailed off, unable to complete the thought. Mand knew it was painful territory he was unwilling to retread. "I never saw Aalon again. I knew that his father, Najin Roeken, had once been the Hunter Lead, so I tried to get close to the Guild without actually joining, just hoping to catch some faint idea of where Recero might have sent her son. I never identified myself, but I also never got any information. I had to give up and leave the sector when I thought I'd gotten the attention of a few of Tzymo's agents that were passing through.

"So, yeah," he concluded weakly, still staring ahead, "...I've been here before. But that was a long time ago."

Mand released a slow breath, once more amazed by his candor. So much of Horatio's past was defined by how he'd lost those closest to him, again and again, and she never realized just how much of his history she hadn't heard before. It was truly a testament to how drastically his son Wil had changed him, for the better, opening him up to have the family he had now, the family he was willing to do anything to save...

"Aalon was _four_ when Recero died," he seethed with sudden fury. "Max was _two_ when his father took him away from her, and I haven't seen him since he was seven. I never got the chance to fight for my nephews. I am _not_ losing Jewel, too. I refuse."

Mand nodded calmly. "That's why we're here."

A shrill beep from the comms preceded a gruff voice belonging to a Guild member, Mand guessed. "Unidentified craft: you have entered Bounty Hunters Guild territory. Transmit clearance codes." A pair of small fighters were quick to swing up on either side of them, locking them into their current trajectory towards a substantial, free floating space station in the middle of the sector.

Giving Horatio a significant look, wordlessly reminding him of her earlier demand, Mand clicked on the comm and reverted to her own foreign, heavy tone. " _Shadow Nova_ requesting permission to dock, transmitting credentials. We are former spice miners looking for work; we'll take jobs of any kind."

Their escort remained silent for several tense moments, presumably checking into their identities. Part of her wasn't sure why she had trusted Horatio's insistence that their aliases were still intact after all these years, and she was beginning to regret it. They were gambling against one of the most well-informed networks of criminals and mercenaries in the galaxy, only to _maybe_ catch a bit of intel on another, more dangerous network. Had she allowed his emotional plea to sway her when she should have remained resolute against him?

Finally, the Guild escorts returned to them, sounding markedly less friendly, had they sounded friendly in the first place. "Only Guild members and vetted contractors are allowed admittance here. Unless a current member can vouch for you, you will be forced to leave this sector, immediately."

Mand stared blankly, her heart falling to her feet. She had been so long removed from the criminal underworld, she knew no names she could give that could possibly gain them passage. She could only think of the most high profile crime lords and mercenaries, none of which would know a Kasimir or Killian Vasch, nor would they blindly give their allegiance to two backwater spice miners they'd never before met...

Horatio's voice came from beside her before she could stop him. "Kun Asakura."

Stunned, Mand turned to stare wide eyed at her former partner. He had not only spoken when she had demanded he remain silent, but he had offered the name of an incredibly dangerous, well-connected hunter who had indirectly crossed paths with her years ago, and not in a benign way. She would have given a hundred different names before she would have dared to align herself with the likes of Asakura.

But Horatio ignored her scathing gaze, his own intently fixed on the comm panel that remained lit despite the ongoing silence. Were the hunters already preparing their forces to chase them down, maybe even destroy them as they blindly awaited a response?

"... _Shadow Nova_ , you are cleared for docking. Proceed to Lock Two-Eight-Four."

Her withheld breath left her in a rush of relief, but she somehow managed a calm reply. "Two-Eight-Four," she repeated for confirmation, "thanks." Horatio had already taken over the ship's direction toward the station's main docking bay as she shut off the comm, and she hardly restrained her anger at him.

" _Don't_ do that again!"

"It got us in, didn't it?"

"Do you even know who Kun Asakura is?"

Incensed, Horatio charged her in the same manner. "Do _you_?"

She tempered her fury with a slow breath. "He worked for my father. He kidnapped my daughter, and Paneau's Princess Ri, for him without hesitation. Cordira was barely more than a month old at the time. If he knew any of the Tarthos personally...he'll recognize me."

But Horatio was unaffected. "Your father's been dead for, what, thirty years now? You and Adalia are the only Tarthos left. Asakura won't care."

"You are being _incredibly_ reckless. This is why I told you to let _me_ do the talking. You are entirely incapable of thinking clearly right now!"

"Look. It was either come up with some kind of connection to the Guild, or we were going to be blown out of the sky." An intense grimace halted him briefly as he navigated, though he had attempted to hide it from her. "Asakura worked for Tzymo once, too. He may not have access to Tzymo's network anymore, but he's our best chance. He'll have a way to get the information we want on Soran."

Mand's gaze slowly tracked down to Horatio's waist, afraid he was doing more to mask his worsening condition to avoid addressing it. He would remain in a state of denial until his own heart stopped beating, she reasoned, if it meant he could get that much closer to finding his daughter. She could appreciate his determination to an extent, but if things were to go poorly within the Guild's compound, there was only so much she could do to get them both out if he couldn't fight for himself.

She softened her voice. "Horatio..."

But his had become razor sharp once more. _"Kasimir."_

Her jaw tensed, having not said his alias aloud in more than twenty years. "Kaz," she breathed weakly, an intense wave of memories rushing back to her. She had to blink them away, ignoring the conflicting emotions they brought back to the surface. "You're in pain."

"That's not going to change anytime soon."

With another smooth maneuver, Horatio guided the _Shadow_ _Nova_ into their assigned docking bay, quickly settling it on its landing struts with a gentle thud. He powered the ship down with a rapid succession of switches, but when he moved to stand, his breath caught in his chest and froze him in place. It would be several seconds before he seemed to get a handle on his pain as his hand found his side once more, and just as she reached for him, unwilling to watch him suffer any longer, he found his footing and quickly stepped out of the cockpit, leaving her to scramble to catch up.

A pair of armed and helmeted Guild guards met her and Horatio at the end of the _Shadow Nova_ 's loading ramp, putting Mand on edge. She had hidden her lightsaber away in a compartment Horatio had assured her couldn't be found by scans, and he had only armed himself with a compact blaster pistol in his jacket pocket. She could already sense that this wasn't going to go as smoothly as she had hoped.

"Surrender all weapons," one of the guards ordered with force, lifting his own blaster in a targeting stance. Mand and Horatio exchanged brief glances before he slowly complied, retracting his pistol from his pocket and holding it out for the guards to take. It left Horatio visibly unsettled, but they were quickly ushered forward by another pair of guards before Horatio could protest. From beside him, she gripped his arm, hard, to remind him to remain silent as they were led through the compound.

Mand took in every bit of intel she could as they walked: she sensed dozens of beings around them, on multiple levels, and as much as she could see, the Bounty Hunters Guild had done well for itself, as well maintained as the station seemed to be. Nothing appeared to be in disrepair, a number of hunters they passed in the halls wore advanced helmets and weaponry, and she even noticed a series of security cams that followed their progress from overhead. It was certainly a secure compound, and she found it increasingly difficult to shake a strange feeling the deeper they were taken into the facility.

They were going to have their hands full if their cover had indeed failed them.

Their escort finally brought them to a door at the end of a long hallway, opening it only after it had been remotely unlocked. Another alarm sounded in the back of her mind only a moment before the guards forcefully shoved them both into the small room and quickly closed the door behind them. Mand was able to regain her balance gracefully, whirling on her heels just in time to hear the door lock before she could return to its control panel. Breathless but desperate to not panic, she rapidly assessed their surroundings: they were locked in a small room with one entry, no windows, and no other items. Only a security cam high in one corner accompanied them, a dim green indicator light blinking as it transmitted. They were being watched, as she already knew, but were they also being listened to? She didn't think they could afford to assume they weren't, so they'd have to keep up their cover.

Turning to Horatio behind her, she was surprised to see that he still hadn't managed to pick himself up off the floor. "Kaz..." She stepped over to him, reaching under his arm to lift him up, but he swung his elbow out of her grip with a rough grunt to deny her aid. She had expected as much, but even as he slowly righted himself and stood with his back against the wall, he kept his hand firmly pressed against his side, leaving her unable to determine if he'd been injured further. His dark glare and shaky breathing were nothing new.

Beyond frustrated with him and with how rapidly their situation had worsened, Mand crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best to relay her anger with him while also playing the part of an upset spicer wife.

"I _told_ you, Kaz. I knew they wouldn't take just anyone into this group."

Horatio struggled to control his breathing. "Maybe this is...part of the interview...process..."

She rolled her eyes, turning her back to him. "We should have just tried to find another mine. Hunters are a completely different class of - "

"Kil..."

Interrupted, she set her jaw. "Don't you try to apologize to me now. This is all _your_ fault."

His strength had suddenly diminished in earnest. " _Kil_..."

As she turned to face him, she saw his outstretched, bloody hand reaching for her just as he fell forward, collapsing onto his face without even breaking his own fall. She reacted instantly, kneeling beside him as she carefully rolled him onto his back.

"Kaz? Kaz! Kasimir!"

He was so suddenly pale and he breathed so shallowly, she wasn't surprised to feel his weak, thready pulse under her fingertips at his neck. She quickly shifted her focus to his left side once more, bearing much of her upper body weight on her palms that she pressed against his bleeding wound.

" _You idiot_!" she seethed under her breath, briefly unsure if he remained conscious and wary of anyone who may be listening in. "I _told_ you that you needed that bacta patch! _I can't heal you in here!_ "

His reaction to the pressure she applied was delayed as he grimaced and groaned, but at least it was still registering. She alone couldn't keep him from dying, though. He needed help, but would their captors even bother?

Looking up at the silent security cam behind her, she pleaded with visible emotion. "Please...help! My husband...he was wounded in a mining accident on our last job. Please! We'll pay you with everything we have left, everything on our ship! Just, _please,_ help him! Don't let him die!"

The cam continued to placidly blink, remaining motionless and showing no signs of any response, leaving Mand to return to Horatio in a mild state of panic. He was still breathing, but his face had cleared of any measure of pain, despite her ongoing pressure. Could she risk attempting to heal him, calling her identity into question when his declining health had somehow managed to improve? Deciding that she couldn't let his condition worsen, she closed her eyes and concentrated, reaching deep within herself to call on the Force to mend his wounds...

A subtle click and _whoosh_ of the door opening behind her startled her out of her trance, and looking over, she saw one helmeted man carefully step into the room. He seemed to study her a moment before he briskly waved his hand, signaling the door to close behind himself. He held some kind of tech in his other hand, but it didn't immediately appear to be a weapon. Had he come to offer aid?

"Please," she begged quietly, her trembling no longer much of an act. "You can take our ship, anything we have... _Please_ help him."

The man hesitated a long moment, drawing out the silence before he finally stepped around to Horatio's other side and knelt, handing her a clean bacta patch.

"This should stop the bleeding," his digitized voice sounded plainly out of his helmet. Though briefly stunned by the offer, Mand took the patch and wasted little time in applying it to Horatio's oozing side. She only noticed after the fact what else the man had brought into the room with him; he had already attached the IV cuff to Horatio's other arm before Mand could interfere or question him. It left her to blindly trust that the line of clear fluid that was already being pumped into Horatio's veins wasn't some kind of poison, but that it would help his blood pressure improve after being so dangerously low. She wanted nothing more than to see the man's face, to know just who he was under the helmet, but...she felt only genuine concern from him, and it puzzled her. Could she believe they truly had an ally in a den of thieves and mercenaries?

"I'll return in a few hours," the man continued as he stood from them. "Hopefully that will give him time to recover."

The man swiftly left the room in the same manner as he had come, leaving Mand breathless as she tended to Horatio once more. She could already feel the difference in her former partner's strengthening heart rate, but she was left little less than perplexed by the anonymous aid. Surely it would come at a price later, and she wasn't sure that price would sit well with either of them.


	10. Chapter 10

"Easy, Kaz," Mand's voice floated through to him as he came to. "You'll be okay. For now."

As much as his side throbbed, his head pained him more, which surprised him. At least he had feeling, he mused.

He forced his eyes open, looking up at her though they refused to focus. "...the hell happened?"

Knelt beside him, Mand gave him an irritated expression. "You collapsed. Again. I told you, you were in no shape for this." She briefly glanced down at his side with a light breath. "Honestly, I don't know why they didn't just take your spleen back at that station. I lost mine years ago, thanks to your friend Prophet, and I've done fine since."

If he'd had the strength, he would have rolled his eyes. She never missed a chance to bring up his past offenses against her, no matter how well they'd recently managed to put it all behind them. Instead of retaliating, he focused his minimal energy on remaining conscious. His hand found his side, and even through his blood-soaked shirt, he could feel it.

"...a bacta patch?"

Mand's eyes narrowed. "No, don't even start. You do _not_ get to protest this anymore. You are done refusing what I've told you to do."

He had begun to respond with equal irritation, but as he lifted his other arm, he felt its abnormal weight and had to inspect the cuff with IV lines attached to him. Still in a bit of a daze, he glanced up at her blankly. "...I know you didn't have this on you when we left the ship."

Her expression softened slightly. "One of the hunters brought that and the patch after you blacked out."

He blinked. "Who was it?"

"I don't know," she sighed, shaking her head, "I never saw his face. He said he'd return later. I just hope he doesn't come back with any kind of demands..."

His guilt suddenly returned to him in earnest, ushered in by her genuine concern. It was at his insistence that they had approached the Guild in the first place, and it was his impulsive response that had landed them in the hunters' custody, unable to barter for the information they sought. He had gotten himself into, and out of, plenty of trouble before, but this time, he had dragged his former partner down with him in his self-destructive haze, when she had only been so eager to offer him the help he obviously needed. He spoke before he was truly aware of his own words.

"I'm sorry, Kil..."

She appeared just as surprised to hear his sincere apology, but she remained silent, allowing him to continue.

"...you were right. This is my fault."

Compassion subdued her intense expression, her eyes looking on him with sympathy for a long moment before she softly responded. "Don't count us out of this fight just yet. They treated you. They didn't have to. You and I have been in tougher scrapes than this. We'll figure out a way to get out of here, and we'll get back to searching for her."

Another lengthy silence stretched between them, but much more wasn't needed to be said. Mand remained at his side, studying him briefly before she slowly lifted her hand and brought it to his face. She lightly brushed her fingers down the side of his cheek, a tender gesture that confused him briefly. Their cover as a married spicer couple mattered less and less to him the longer they were captives of the Guild, but in the back of his mind, he knew her unyielding determination to help him wasn't merely an act. She could have, no, she _should_ have given up on him after his ill-advised antics despite her warnings, but she had stayed, resolving to see him through it all...

A soft _whoosh_ announced an entering visitor, and they both looked over to see a helmeted man slowly step inside the room, carrying two canteens in his arms. The door closed behind him with a brief wave of his hand, and he stood completely still for a long moment as he observed the two of them. Mand had a wary expression on her face, but she didn't appear to feel threatened, or she would have already moved to adopt a more defensive stance. Was this the hunter that had helped to treat him when he had been out?

"Good," came the hunter's voice from his helmet, "you're awake. I was afraid I hadn't given you enough time to recover."

Horatio studied him carefully, unsure what to make of the man's tone. He sounded...genuine, and like he was already familiar with them, yet neither Horatio nor Mand knew his identity. They couldn't return the level of comfort he shared.

"I've been worse," Horatio answered gruffly, to which the man nodded in understanding and stepped closer, extending the canteens to them.

"Water."

Mand carefully took them both from him, opening one to sniff at it briefly before taking a small sip. Satisfied that it was safe, she reached down and gently tucked her hand under Horatio's head to help him lift up to the canteen as she tipped it. He was initially reluctant, but the cool, crisp water at his lips immediately negated his caution, unaware just how thirsty he had become. He gulped down as much as Mand would allow him to, appreciating the chill he felt through his core that further soothed his pain for a brief moment.

As she sat back from him and closed the canteen, saving some for later, Horatio lowered his head back to the floor and returned his gaze to their visitor with a wary expression. The helmeted man hadn't appeared to move since handing over the canteens, seemingly hesitant to speak again. Horatio had begun to ask him a question, but stopped when the man pulled his left arm up to his chest and punched at the buttons on his wrist commpad. He looked up and over at the lone security cam in the corner, and the three of them watched as its blinking green light went completely dim. Had he just deactivated it?

"I'm sorry for the...accommodations," the man said as he returned to them, "but I have to keep up appearances for my hunters, at least for now."

Mand and Horatio exchanged uneasy glances, unsure what their visitor meant, but neither were prepared for his following move. He lifted his helmet off his head with ease and held it at his side under his arm, looking down at Horatio directly.

"It's been a long time, Uncle Horatio."

Dumbfounded, Horatio stared up at the young man. He looked to be in his mid thirties, his frame was lean but muscular, and his hair was short and sandy brown, but it was his unmistakable green-brown eyes that gave him away as one of Recero's sons, his nephew he'd only seen once but never formally met.

He could hardly breathe. " _Aalon_..."

Aalon nodded needlessly, shifting his gaze to Mand after a moment. "It's an honor to meet you, as well, Master Natiyr. Aalon Roeken."

He politely extended his hand to Mand, which she only shook reluctantly, and he seemed sensitive to her wariness. "Yes, I know who you are, but I promise you, except for my wife, no one else in this complex knows you're here under aliases. I've made sure of that."

Horatio furrowed his brows. Aalon spoke with such confidence and surety, but how was he in a position to make those kinds of assurances? He'd have to be extremely high in rank, and among the hunters of the Guild, there was only one rank that mattered...

Aalon seemed to aptly read and confirm Horatio's train of thought. "I'm the Hunter Lead, the Guildmaster, like my father before me. Have been for three years. This is my facility, and these hunters are under my command." He paused briefly, looking down at Horatio's bloodied shirt. "I am sorry for the way they treated you when you arrived here. It won't happen again, you have my word."

Although he wasn't sure a response was required, Horatio nodded faintly to accept his apology, but it only momentarily alleviated Aalon's concern. The younger man seemed to hesitate a long, tense minute before finally discovering the courage to speak once more.

"...I think I know why you're here. And it worries me."

Horatio felt his chest freeze solid with intense dread. If the Guildmaster knew about his daughter's kidnapping, was one of his own hunters responsible for it? Had his own nephew sanctioned a bounty on his little five-year-old Jewel?

Aalon turned to Mand with jarring curiosity. "Your lightsaber, do you have it with you?"

As if sensing Horatio's rising anxiety, Mand was reluctant to respond. "...it's well hidden."

Aalon glanced aside in thought. "So it's somewhere on your ship. I'll delay the scanning crew so they won't find it." Returning to Horatio, he ignored his uncle's changing expression. "And your wound, did they remove all the shrapnel from it?"

Seconds passed with agonizing sloth. He hardly had the strength to breathe, let alone process the realization he had already come to. "How did you...know..."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Aalon appeared every bit as reluctant to confess what Horatio feared. He heaved a shaky breath that weakened his earlier confidence.

"...because I was there. I'm the one who threw that detonator...and I'm the one who took your daughter."

The sound of Aalon's words reverberated through Horatio's head a full minute before he truly processed what the Hunter Lead had said. In the span it took him to gather the strength to breathe again, Mand had already stood from his side and charged at Aalon, reacting in Horatio's stead.

"You... _what_?"

Defensive, Aalon glanced between the two as he cautiously backpedaled from her. "Jewel is here," he countered quickly. "She's safe. And she's sedated. She hasn't been aware of anything that's been going on, I promise you - "

Mand rapidly had him backed up against the wall, holding her palm towards him as if prepared to use the Force on him. For some reason, though, she restrained herself, only threatening him. "Your promises mean _nothing_ right now."

Willing himself upright, Horatio managed to stand with one hand firmly pressed against his bandaged side. The room spun with his premature movement his head wasn't ready for, but he refused to remain listless any longer. Eye level with his nephew, shoulder to shoulder with his former partner, Horatio glared at him, at his sister's son he could no longer consider kin.

"You...you attacked my family...in my home..."

Aalon again looked to them alternately. "Horatio, I can explain - "

" _You almost killed my son_! I held him in my arms, I _watched_ the life leave him!"

"I did what I had to so I - "

"And then you took my daughter from me, from her bed, _in the middle of the night_!"

Just as furious, Aalon raised his voice to match. "Someone put a bounty on her!"

Horatio was silenced only for a moment, but Aalon didn't waste the opportunity to explain, his words as sharp as his tone. "I told you, I am the Hunter Lead. This is _my_ Guild. _Every_ contract that comes through my organization, first goes through me. Then I assign it to the hunters with the skills that would best fulfill that contract. It's up to me whether I leave the client anonymous or not when I give out those contracts to my hunters. They may not know what client they're serving when they go out on their hunts, but _I always do_. I _always_ know." He paused, his voice losing strength. "...except for this bounty on Jewel.

"I don't know how," he wavered, "but the contract was entered into my system entirely anonymously, without a client attached to it. That's _not_ supposed to happen. Someone with a connection to my network they're not supposed to have put that bounty on Jewel. The second it came across my desk...I reacted. I left immediately for Dantooine. I didn't have time to wait, and I didn't have time to warn you. I couldn't risk the chance that whoever had sent me that contract could have also already hired someone else outside the Guild, someone I had no control over. I _had_ to get there first.

"I was supposed to be in and out before anyone ever noticed," he continued with weakened fervor. "I _am_ sorry for the injuries I gave you and your son. I didn't know that's who he was. He was too good; I was afraid he was another hunter, and I had to stop him somehow. But Jewel was never aware of any of it, Horatio, I swear to you. She has been asleep this whole time, and she has not been harmed in any way. She's safe here. She's family."

Horatio had heard enough. His clenched fist shook at his side. "You're no family of mine," he seethed. "You have _no_ right to decide where she's safe. _I_ am her father. _I_ make that decision. I don't care if you're the Hunter Lead, or the Black Sun Boss, or even the resurrected corpse of the Emperor himself, _you don't get to decide how to protect her._ You're going to take me to her, _right now._ "

Aalon stalled. "I have had my best slicers trying to decode that contract since I returned - "

But Horatio had no patience left, twisting a fistful of Aalon's shirt at his neck and pressing his fist into his throat. "Take me to my daughter, _now!_ "

Aalon breathed in short spurts. "She's - - asleep. She won't - "

But Horatio pressed harder, ignoring the intensifying white-hot pain from the broken bone in his hand. "Take me to her!"

Though hardly able to breathe, Aalon continued to resist, seemingly testing Horatio's resolve to the last - until Mand gripped Horatio's wrist and pulled him away, freeing Aalon to cough and choke as he recovered. Horatio turned to redirect his anger at Mand, but she held tightly to his wrist, locking her gaze with his. Something indescribable in her eyes calmed his fury and soothed the searing pain in his hand at the same time...was she using the Force on him?

"Fine," Aalon said roughly, still massaging his throat as he righted himself. "But I am not going to wake her up. She's staying here. She's _safe_ here, until we figure out who put that bounty on her. Agreed?"

Every fiber in his being resonated with revolt, in complete denial that he would accept such detestable terms...but he had to. Nothing about his nephew's assurances sat right with him, but if he could just see his Jewel and find a way to confirm Aalon's claims, he could at least find rest for a brief moment. His old, battered body needed it. A curt nod accepted Aalon's terms, and he watched the Hunter Lead closely as he donned his helmet once more and pressed keys on his wrist commpad, unlocking the room's door and leading them silently through the compound.


	11. Chapter 11

Mand's heart had settled in her throat as she kept up stride beside Horatio, following his nephew Aalon Roeken through a winding network of vacant, narrow corridors. The passages were hardly spacious, only barely passable by the two of them; had her frame been any broader built, their trek would have been far more uncomfortable. For the time being, though, she matched Horatio's pace, her muscles tense and prepared to intervene should he suddenly become...violent.

Aalon had led them through the Guild's complex for what felt like a half hour, though whether the Hunter Lead's private rooms were actually situated so far from where they'd started or Aalon had intentionally disoriented them as much as possible as they traveled, Mand wasn't sure. She could only sense how physically drained Horatio had become once more, and she briefly wondered if he would be able to last much longer without aid. He had again returned his hand to his wounded side, applying pressure that seemed to relieve his pain somewhat, but his gaze was firmly fixed ahead of him and he occasionally took a weak, shuffling step to catch himself. Would he even allow her to help him?

Mand kept her voice soft, the first to speak since they'd left their holding room.

"Let me see your hand."

His broken right hand hadn't yet been addressed, as his problematic side wound had continually commanded her attention instead. If she could provide him with some pain relief and a subtle energy boost at the same time, she'd feel much more confident that she could keep him stable. He seemed to blatantly ignore her, though, continuing forward without even a glance at her, apparently more interested in withholding his other injuries from his nephew. He relented after a lengthy moment, albeit reluctantly, holding up his shaking right hand to her, palm down.

His entire hand was swollen from the trauma it had repeatedly endured, most recently as he had held his fist against Aalon's throat while threatening him. Mand took great care in gently closing her hand around his, already calling on the Force to quickly soothe and mend his broken bone before he withdrew his compliance. He inhaled sharply with her touch, but he kept his hand extended to her, much to her surprise. Though it was dark in the corridor, the pallor she saw returning to his face forced her to work quickly but earnestly, healing him and feeding him energy she knew he'd need.

After another dozen turns, Aalon finally slowed as they approached an unmarked door at the end of the hall. Instantly alert and tensed, Horatio returned his hand to his side, leaving Mand no choice but to grip his upper arm instead. He didn't appear to register her touch or the strength she continued to share with him, only interested in the movements of his nephew ahead of them, and Mand was briefly unsure which of the two she needed to monitor more. Aalon had only slightly turned his helmeted head back to them as they wordlessly stood before the door, clearly reluctant to continue forward.

"...she hasn't been harmed, Horatio," he repeated his earlier assertion, but Horatio didn't tolerate his hesitance at all.

" _Open the door_."

Only pausing a moment longer, Aalon pressed a sequence of buttons on his wrist commpad and quickly stepped inside as the door softly slid open. Mand struggled to keep up with Horatio on Aalon's heels, and as the Hunter Lead moved aside, revealing the small bed at the center of the room, she hardly had the chance to shield herself from the sudden eruption of emotion from her former partner.

 _"Jewel!"_

All traces of his earlier stumbling steps were gone as Horatio swept up to his daughter's side, looking on her tiny, still form with patent relief Mand knew all too well. He took in trembling breaths as he lightly traced his fingers down her cheek, her lek, eventually taking up her small hand in his as she remained peacefully asleep. There was only one small monitor above her head, displaying a slow, steady heartbeat, and one lone line of clear fluid attached to her other arm presumably fed her a sedative and sustaining nutrients. Though Mand had never met the sweet little one before, it was still difficult to see such a young, healthy, vibrant child in such an unnecessary suspended state, made even worse by the anguish she felt freely radiating from the girl's distraught father.

Still gently holding Jewel's hand, Horatio looked to Mand with an intense, expectant expression; worry and fear were so readily apparent in his eyes, a state she had never seen from him before. Without a word, he was pleading for her help, trusting her and her abilities with the most important, precious thing in his life, and it took her a moment more to interpret his request in her daze. She stepped closer and gently rested her hand atop the girl's leg under a heavy blanket, closing her eyes briefly to again call on the Force, assessing Jewel's condition without disturbing her...

"He's told you the truth," she breathed after a tense silence, returning her gaze to him. She kept her voice as gentle as possible. "She's not hurt. She's just sleeping."

"I made sure she didn't wake up before I left with her," Aalon offered again from behind them. "I never had any intention of harming anyone."

Horatio's eyes never lifted from his daughter; he remained unconvinced and answered with a hard edge to his voice. "You threw a detonator at me."

The hesitation in Aalon's response was telling. "Wil had tackled me from behind right as I threw it. It was just a flash detonator; it was only meant to blind you temporarily, not injure you."

Again Horatio remained wholly focused on his Jewel, his posture slowly sagging as his adrenalin rush ebbed. It wouldn't be long before he would need help to even remain standing, and the thought wearied her. She let go of a short breath before she turned to face Aalon, and she was surprised to see a slight woman standing closely beside the Hunter Lead, though no one had entered the room after them. She was an olive skinned, dark haired beauty, but a sharp fierceness in her eyes led Mand to believe she wasn't just a bounty hunter's decorative trophy. Aalon had removed his helmet and placed it aside, wrapping his arm around the woman's shoulders, and he waited only a moment before answering Mand's wordless inquiry.

"This is my wife, Talithana. She hasn't left Jewel's side since I brought her here." He paused again as if expecting Horatio's attention, but when the elder Sheridan continued to ignore him, he went on with the introductions. "Tali, this is Jedi Master Mand Natiyr. She knew the Jedi Master who delivered me, the one I was named after." Tali nodded politely to Mand, and Mand returned it weakly, but Tali's gaze slowly migrated to Horatio who, though he still had his back to them, she seemed to recognize anyway.

"...I thought you said you weren't going to bring him here."

Aalon shook his head, also looking at Horatio. "I didn't. They came to me." He considered his thoughts a long moment, studying his uncle briefly before returning to Mand. "You didn't expect to meet me. And you also didn't know that you'd find Jewel here...did you?"

Mand only responded with a blank gaze, still somewhat unwilling to trust the Hunter Lead. Aalon's question was more of a statement, anyway; he'd already deduced that from their reaction upon being told that he had in fact been the one who had taken the girl from her home days ago. He seemed to be testing their resolve. "So what _did_ bring you to the Guild, then?"

With a soft breath, Mand turned to Horatio for his approval, since it was his family's affairs, not hers, that had tumbled so wildly out of control so suddenly. He again refused to focus on anything but his sleeping daughter, though, and she could appreciate his state to a point. She had been in his place not so many years ago, concerned only with rescuing her daughter and bringing her home... But his ongoing silence wasn't going to improve their chances of finding answers and preventing it from happening again. She could be tactful enough in his stead.

As she responded to Aalon, she reached up and gently rested her hand on Horatio's shoulder for reassurance. "We found out that Horatio's son Wil had been looking into your older brother Max. Wil was trying to find him. We left Dantooine before he had recovered from his injuries enough to wake up, so we don't know how much, if anything, he had been able to dig up about Max, but...if Soran felt threatened by Wil's search, we thought he might have taken Jewel as retaliation. We came to the Guild to get any information on Soran that we could."

Horatio's shoulder tensed under Mand's hand, his upper body hunching over Jewel's bed as a protective reflex, but despite his ongoing distress, he remained silent. She continued to share soothing, peaceful energy with him...

"That might make sense," Aalon answered with a brief nod, "...if Soran was still alive."

Engaged for the first time, Horatio whirled around. "Soran's _dead_?"

Aalon crossed his arms over his chest, somewhat reluctantly sharing such sensitive intel. "We haven't been able to confirm it, officially or unofficially, but...no one's actually seen the man himself in years. His spice runners have continued to operate fairly routinely, but the rest of the hierarchy is slowly being dismantled from the inside out, bit by bit. Rumor is, in Soran's absence, someone with enough power has taken over his spice empire, not to operate it or expand it...but to dissolve it. No explanation, no fanfare, nothing. There'll be nothing left of it by the end of this cycle."

Desperate to not feel completely defeated, Mand looked to Horatio, searching his eyes. They had already been proven wrong in thinking Jewel had been kidnapped by someone who had intended to use her against Horatio, and now their initial suspect behind the kidnapping had long been removed from his own criminal empire? Though Jewel was safe and unharmed in Aalon's care, they were back to no leads, no clues, and no ideas. What were they to do now?

"My father had worked closely with Soran for a long time," Aalon continued with a softer tone, "at least, up until he died a few years ago. Whoever's helming that spice empire in his place wouldn't have any personal reason to take up arms against you now. I don't think they're the ones behind the bounty placed on Jewel."

Something clicked with Horatio as Aalon spoke, and his eyes sharpened as he looked back up at his nephew with intense distrust. "...your father was killed before you were born."

Aalon only partially masked his surprise. "My biological father, yes. But the Asakuras took me in after Mom died. Kun raised me. He was my father, he taught me everything I know. When he died, I took his place, and I became the Hunter Lead."

A sudden darkness had overtaken Horatio's mind; Mand had sensed it without even seeing the look of betrayal on his face. "My sister...sent you to live with _Kun Asakura_ , a man known for the most brutal, ruthless, and twisted hunting methods, instead of _me_?"

Aalon's eyes narrowed. "Kun was a good friend to my parents. He took care of Mom in her final days, even with Tzymo's control over her. You didn't."

Mand gripped Horatio's arm in earnest, though he hadn't moved. The loss of his sister had always been a painful subject for him, landing him in a cantina fight he couldn't finish years ago, and she knew he still carried such grief and guilt for his failure to protect her and her sons. She could easily feel his trembling, and she expected him to erupt at any moment. "Horatio..."

But surprising her, even without her influence he remained in place, his gaze locked with his nephew's. His broken voice was difficult to hear. "We're leaving. With Jewel. Now."

"I can't let you go," Aalon refused again, resolute. "Not right now. Not while we're still trying to figure out who sent that bounty. You leave now, you'll be more vulnerable than ever, and you'll invite someone else to try again. And I won't allow that."

Horatio suddenly moved to lunge at Aalon, but Mand restrained him with greater strength than he could muster. "No, Horatio!" she commanded with force, standing between the two men as she stared Horatio down from his ill-advised decision. He began to angrily resist her hold, shuffling to get around her, but she wasn't prepared for him to collapse to his knees as his hands clutched his side in agony. His face had become sallow once more; he was bleeding again.

With her arms around his shoulders, Mand gently eased his limp upper body to the floor as he blacked out, her fingers finding his erratic pulse at his neck while her other hand pressed his side to heal his wound that was just as stubborn as he was. Aalon cautiously knelt beside him, concerned but watching him closely for another attempt at an attack.

"Is there _any_ way we can get him a transfusion?" Mand begged, wresting her own final reserves of strength. "He can't heal if he keeps losing blood like this."

Though Aalon was clearly reluctant to answer, he looked up at his wife behind him. Tali hesitated, as well, but she eventually nodded with a weak breath. "There's a bed in the room next door, we can get him set up in it for now."

Aalon stepped around to lift Horatio under his arms as Mand tucked her hands under his knees, but Aalon paused before moving him, his voice conveying nothing but concern. "Jewel _can't_ leave, Master..."

Swayed by the compassion in his eyes, Mand answered in kind, agreeing to convince Horatio once he was conscious again. "We'll stay. I'll keep him asleep for a while, too."

Satisfied, Aalon nodded and stood with her, slowly carrying Horatio between them as Tali opened the doors along their way. As she had said, the nearby room just down the hall had an empty bed they settled Horatio down on, and Tali wasted little time in getting him hooked up to monitors and replacing the bacta patch on his side. Just as the door closed behind them, though, Mand could have sworn she heard the faint sound of astromech wheels slowly rolling down the hallway.


	12. Chapter 12

Though the silence was expected in such a small facility staffed only by a minimal team of Paneau, it still left Wil unnerved as he stood alone at the end of the hall, looking out the window into the empty space beyond the station's boundary. It took everything in him to not race down to the hangar and hop aboard the closest ship, joining his father in the search for his sister Jewel, even though he had no clue where to start looking. The lack of direction wouldn't bother him as much as being forced to remain behind and do _nothing_ , passively awaiting word from other covert agents who were out scouring the galaxy in his place. It went against everything innate within him and everything he had learned from his cousins and his brother, Rys'tihns who had always been people of immediate action and response without hesitation. He had even promised his father that much the day Jewel had been born.

He still suffered twinges of pain in his chest as he recovered, though, reminding him just how close he had come to a brush with death. He also had yet to regain much of his stamina; the short walk from his room to the window had left his legs quivering underneath him. It made him nothing but frustrated and angry with himself and his mind that had refused to return to him his memories of the days before, days that might give him some kind of insight into who had taken Jewel and why...

A soft pair of footsteps behind him earned his attention; he had been expecting Embrey to have quickly noticed his absence in his room and followed him to the hall. She would want him to immediately return to his bed, he mused, to continue resting, and the thought only irritated him further. When his visitor remained silent and patiently awaited his acknowledgement, though, his anger became curiosity instead, and he was surprised to turn and see Wyliaa standing just beside him.

"Liaa..."

A faint bruise at her temple seemed to be healing, as were a few small cuts on her face. Though her golden amber eyes were full of worry and fear, as he had expected them to be, there was also a deep regret present that was unmistakable and perplexing. She searched his face wordlessly, reaching her hand up to gently caress his cheek in the tender way a mother would. It was the first time they had seen each other since Horatio had suddenly moved her and Jewel away more than six months ago, a choice that Horatio's message to him had insisted was made without her input...but Liaa clearly bore the burden of that guilt all the same.

His attempt at a smile was feeble. "I'm okay, Liaa."

She seemed to acknowledge his meaning, that he was assuring her about more than just his physical health, but she couldn't return his smile.

"...I am _so_ sorry...about _all_ of zhis..."

He closed his eyes briefly, appreciating her caring touch. "It wasn't your fault."

Though she hesitated, she released a shaky breath as she nodded with relief, lowering her hand from his face. His absolution was something she had needed to hear, and he willingly gave it. Her voice still trembled, though, as she continued softly. "I 'ave _always_ zhought of you as a son. Not zhat I want to replace your mozher... I know I never could. But I 'ave always considered you part of us. Part of our family. You are 'oratio's son. And you are Jewel's big brozher. Nozhing will ever change zhat." She paused a moment, her voice fading even more. "...it tore your fazher up, every day. 'e 'asn't been zhe same since we left. I know zhis doesn't mean much coming from me, but... I wanted you to know. 'e will tell you zhe same when you see 'im again."

Unable to respond with much more than a simple nod, Wil stepped closer to her and pulled her into a warm embrace. She was reluctant to reciprocate at first, seemingly afraid of causing him pain, but the longer he held her, the more she relaxed and tightened her hold around him. Their relationship had always been one built on their mutual love for his father, made even stronger after Jewel's birth, and now that they were facing such a dire situation together, he hoped she understood that he held none of it against her. She deserved his comfort just as much as he deserved hers.

Wyliaa released Wil and stepped back just slightly, looking up at him as a few silent tears slowly fell from her eyes. "I know zhat you did _everyzhing_ you could to protect Jewel, to try to save 'er. I know you did. It almost cost you your life... And I wouldn't expect anyzhing less." With a wan smile, she lifted up onto her toes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Your mozher would 'ave been so proud of you."

He felt less than worthy of her praise. "We will find Jewel, Liaa. I promise you."

"I know," she returned weakly, gripping his shoulder in earnest. "But I need you to take care of yourself, too. I know you want to leave. I can see it in your eyes. You _are_ your fazher's son, after all. But...you are still 'ere right now, so...per'aps today you are your mozher's son instead."

She had a point. He might have taken off after his father had he not had his girlfriend's gentle guidance in the back of his mind, imploring him to recover his memories and his strength before he actively joined the search. Would his mother have done the same, had she been in his place?

Two men approached them from the hall, slowing their pace respectfully as they recognized Wil and Liaa's intimate discussion. They were fellow covert agents, and Wil was nothing but eager to talk to them.

"Hopefully they'll have an update for us," he told her as he nodded their direction, inviting them forward. Liaa dropped her hand from his shoulder, but she didn't move far from his side. She seemed just as eager to hear what they had to say.

"Wil," Thaylan addressed him with patent relief. "Glad to see you up and about, buddy."

"Feels good to be vertical again," Wil agreed. "I was about to lose my mind if I had to stay in that bed any longer."

Nevo still appeared concerned, though. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Just some lingering soreness, nothing I can't handle." Anticipating more questions about his condition, he countered on another path altogether. "Have you heard from my dad?"

Thaylan shook his head. "No, not yet. But we did track where he took your ship." He hesitated a moment with a brief glance at Wyliaa. "They're in the Ottega System."

Surprised, Wil blinked. "...are you sure?"

Thaylan and Nevo exchanged glances, appearing just as surprised to be challenged. "As...sure was we can be."

"It's just...I remember that's where I was before all this happened, when I got that message to protect Jewel. It's not a delayed signal?"

"It's a fresh relay, we know that much," Thaylan assured him. "Your ship's been there since it left Paneau days ago, hasn't moved at all."

Frustrated that there had to be something he wasn't piecing together, something obvious that he wasn't connecting, Wil gave a quick sigh as he brought his hand to his forehead, massaging his temple. "Why would I have been there? What's in that sector?"

Again the two covert agents shared uneasy looks. "...the Bounty Hunters' Guild is based there."

"Were you talking to a hunter, Wil?"

With so much of his recent past still locked within his recovering mind, Wil couldn't answer Nevo with anything helpful. "I don't know. I...I don't think so, but...I can't remember what took me there. I need to see the transmission logs on my ship, they might tell me what I'm missing."

"The Ot'rios have a pair of agents that are stationed practically next door to the Guild's compound. They're working on getting inside and getting those logs back to us. We'll have them soon enough."

Still beside him, Liaa seemed sensitive to Wil's rising anxiety and gripped his hand from his head, bringing it down to his side. Though he wasn't sure how he felt about another Paneau Royal Family's covert agents getting involved in a Sheridan matter, something completely unrelated to their normal operations, at least it promised progress. He had felt completely useless in that regard since waking up after his life-saving surgeries, contributing almost nothing to the search for his sister. He'd even been surpassed by a droid he'd never before met, an astromech that had mysteriously appeared at his father's home after they'd both been brought to the remote facility by the Jedi to be treated. The droid had provided a scan of a ship that had left Dantooine, presumably with his sister on board, though they hadn't yet been able to identify or track it. Maybe the droid had more help to offer...

"I want to talk to Bex."

The change in both of the covert agents was instantaneous. Neither would meet Wil's gaze for several moments, leaving an awful, wrenching knot in his stomach. Thaylan finally worked up the courage to respond, and Wil's heart sank even further.

"...Bex is gone."

"You lost a _droid!?_ You didn't put a restraining bolt on him?"

"We did!" Nevo countered penitently. "But he disappeared hours ago. He...he must have disabled it somehow."

" _I_ disabled it," came another new voice to the conversation as Embrey stepped up to join them. "Bex asked me to."

Wil wasn't sure how he managed to keep a look of betrayal out of his expression. Thaylan, however, appeared furious.

"That wasn't your decision to make!"

Embrey confidently stood her ground against her brother, though. "But it was the _right_ one."

A tense silence hung between the five until Embrey spoke again, her attention fixed only on him as she defended her actions. "Wil, he's a _Sheridan_ droid. He belongs to _your_ family. He desperately wanted to help. He said that he needed to leave, right then, that it was of the utmost importance, and that he would return. I believed him, so I removed the restraining bolt and got him a small ship."

He could hardly keep the exasperation out of his voice. "Em, we don't even know who he belongs to, or what his real motivations are. How did he know where to find my father's home? Why hadn't my father ever told me about him? I never got the chance to question him myself. You shouldn't have let him go."

Though the dark shade to her skin showed little noticeable change, Wil could see the tell in her eyes as they reddened with tears she refused to shed. The defeat in her weakened tone was unmistakable, and it pained him to hear. "...I know where he went."

Nevo looked relieved. "You put a tracker on him?"

Her gaze still locked with Wil's, Embrey didn't even blink. "I'm not an idiot." She drew in a shaky breath as she regained the strength to continue. "He went to the Ottega System, too. But he wasn't there for more than an hour. He made a hyperspace jump not too long ago, so...I guess we'll see where he ends up."

Taking the opportunity to make an exit and repair the damage done, Thaylan and Nevo started for the command center. "We'll let you know the second he comes back on our scopes."

Liaa was interested, too, calling out after the agents. "I will come wizh you." She gave Wil's hand a gentle squeeze before she left, eager to get herself involved somehow but still showing him her support. He remained behind in the hall in a daze, losing himself in Embrey's golden eyes as she broke down her defiant facade and silently pleaded for his forgiveness instead.

"...he _will_ come back," she asserted, though whether for his sake or for her own, he wasn't sure. Wil nodded faintly, letting go of a weak breath.

"I hope you're right."

Wearied by their exchange, he slowly stepped closer to her, reaching his hand up to take hers at her side, but a sudden twinge of pain deep in his chest stopped him midstep. He grimaced and gripped his shirt over his heart as it left him briefly gasping for breath, and Embrey closed the distance between them in an instant.

"Wil?!"

He was too slow to dismiss her concern with a shake of his head. The pain was gone as quickly as it had struck him, though he was grateful to feel both of her hands holding him by his shoulders. His frame was far lankier than hers, but he knew she would have done everything in her power to support him had his legs gone out from under him. The thought brought a faint smile to his face, and meeting her gaze again, he could tell it comforted her, too.

"It's alright. Just a pulled muscle not yet used to moving again."

The care in her eyes drew him in even further, and though she didn't appear convinced, she at least didn't argue with his deflection. She released one of his shoulders and delicately brushed her fingers against his cheek as they shared a tender moment alone together in the hall. He might have let it linger for much, much longer under normal circumstances, but nothing had been normal for months.

"I'm sorry for what I said," he breathed, sincerity saturating his tone. "I'm angry with myself, not you. I haven't felt this helpless in a long time."

"You're not helpless. You're...temporarily decommissioned. I happen to know a little bit about what that feels like."

Stealing a brief glance down at her swollen midsection that was becoming harder to ignore, he gave a weak laugh. "And yet here you are, in the middle of all of it."

"I could say the same about you."

He playfully rolled his eyes. "This is me very much _not_ being in the middle of anything. I could've been like my dad and I could've already left."

Embrey gave him a challenging look. "Your father had a slight still-bleeding problem. You, on the other hand, had a slight _keep-_ _heart-beating_ problem. That's a little harder to ignore."

He couldn't counter, so he deftly changed the subject instead. "Did Bex say anything when he left?"

"No," she shook her head sadly, "I'm sorry. Just that he had to leave, and it was important. It almost sounded like he had to go meet somebody, wherever he went." She paused a moment, mulling over a thought. "Could he have gotten a transmission?"

"Maybe. That restraining bolt might have logged it. Do you still have it?"

A brief flash in her eyes meant he had earned her ire once more, but as she continued to stare past him out the window at his back, he quickly grew curious and turned to look himself.

"That's the ship..."

Wil didn't recognize it. "What?"

Blinking herself out of her stupor, Embrey's expression lit up. "It's the ship I sent Bex away on! He came back!"

Without missing a beat, Wil's wrist commpad lit up with a shrill beep, and he activated it just as quickly.

"Wil, get down here - "

"Yeah, we see it," he answered Nevo in a rush. "We're on our way."

Embrey took his hand and sped with him down the hall, sparing a glance at him every few moments to be sure he was keeping up. The hangar was a quick lift trip down, and it couldn't move fast enough. By the time they reached the small hangar accommodating a handful of ships, the one that had just arrived was just setting down on its struts, its loading ramp already descending. A number of armed Paneau flanking the ship trained their blasters on the opening hatch, prepared for hostiles, but its only occupant that Wil could see was the orange-paneled astromech at the top of the ramp. Bex rocked back and forth on his two feet, whistling and spurting bleeps and chirps with extreme excitement, but he remained in place. With his heart in his throat, Wil looked to the agents beside him as Bex continued to shriek.

"Nevo?"

Nevo only listened a moment longer, his brows knit together as he translated the droid's sputtering. "He just keeps saying, 'I have her, I have her, she's here,' over and over. That's it."

Bex's beeping only intensified, the same electronic phrases repeating a dozen times as they all stood perplexed. Desperately curious, Wil held his arm out beside him, keeping Embrey behind him.

"Stay here," he ordered her, though the look of warning she gave him in return could have torn a new hole in his chest. He stepped forward without her, though, slowly ascending the ramp with Nevo armed just beside him.

"Bex..." he reached out in a friendly, non-threatening gesture, hoping to get the droid to respond to him. "We haven't met, but I'm Wil. I'm Horatio's son, Recero's nephew."

Bex spun his dome as all his lights flickered, his pattern changing only slightly. "He says he knows," Nevo translated. "And again he's saying he has her, she's here."

His nerves were beginning to get the better of him as he looked about the small ship's cabin. There wasn't much beyond the tiny cargo bay the three of them stood in, and the cockpit further inside appeared to be empty, as well. What was this blasted droid going so insane about? The only things Wil could tell didn't belong aboard the ship were piled just to the side in the cargo bay. A number of large power cells were concealing a droid foot behind them, a third foot that Bex didn't seem to have. It had the same orange paint and worn pattern as the rest of the weathered droid, so why had Bex's foot been removed? Were those his power cells, too? Was that why he wasn't moving from where he stood? Had his insides been gutted for a reason?

...the realization hit him so hard, he could no longer feel his own pulse.

"Nevo... _his dome_."

"What?"

"His dome! Help me lift it!"

Holstering his blaster in a daze, Nevo finally complied as Wil began sinking his fingertips into the faint grooves around the astromech's body. Bex stilled and quieted as they began their work, but Wil wouldn't have heard a turbolaser cannon blast even if it had been shot from just beside him. The droid's dome was _heavy_ and initially refused to relinquish its hold, but they continued to lift, exposing a mess of wiring and servo gears and circuits...

And nestled in the hollowed space created by withdrawn power cells was a tiny twi'lek hybrid girl, delicately wrapped in a soft blanket and hooked up to a small breath mask over her nose and mouth.

 _"Jewel!"_

His hands shook as he reached in and tucked two fingers under her chin, nearly collapsing the second he felt her light pulse. He heard the rest of the Paneau rush in behind him and surround them to help, but he saw nothing but his precious sister as he painstakingly lifted her up out of the droid, cradling her small, limp body in his arms with the gentlest of movement. She was peacefully asleep, at least so she appeared, and though the Paneau spoke to him, asking him a dozen questions, he moved forward without any response, taking her inside the complex.

As if anticipating being needed, Master Rech Natiyr met Wil in the hallway, Wyliaa just on his heels. The Master Healer wasted little time in scooping the girl out of Wil's arms, already calling on the Force to tend to her small form, and Liaa held tightly to her, too, beside herself with joy at finally, _finally_ having her little girl back. They quickly disappeared to a treatment room to begin repairing whatever had been done to her, but Wil had no energy left to follow. He fell to his knees, breathless in shock and elation, only just registering Embrey's arms around him as she, too, knelt just in front of him.


	13. Chapter 13

Hours had passed by so slowly, so quietly, Mand had briefly lost track of her own thoughts. As a reflex, her body seemed to have put itself into a light meditation without her knowledge, and with a deep, rejuvenating breath, she straightened her posture and checked her former partner's condition for the hundredth time.

Though partially the fault of the light trance she had placed him under, Horatio had remained peacefully asleep as the IV lines in his arms had slowly replenished the precious fluids and blood he had continually lost for days. The bacta patch on his side that she repeatedly replaced no longer darkened with fresh blood, finally an indication of ongoing, lasting healing. She knew she'd face his ire for his forced recovery, once she allowed him to wake up, but she had endured far worse from him. They had found Jewel at last, as she had promised him, and he clearly needed the rest. As stubborn as he was, though, she was mildly surprised he hadn't broken through her trance and woken up himself already.

Cutting through the silence, the room's door behind her softly slid open and a lone pair of footsteps slowly approached her. The fall of each step was far heavier than she recalled Aalon's or Talithana's being, however, immediately putting her on edge. She and Horatio had been sequestered deep within the Hunter Lead's compound, probably within the most secure area in the entire station, so a new visitor was either unlikely to know who she was, or they were an intruder with ill intent. In one swift movement, she stood from her seat beside Horatio, turning to face her visitor with her hand outstretched before her and positioning her body to shield Horatio behind her. She called on the Force, tensing her muscles to prepare for any quick action and honing her reflexes...

...but it was a vaguely familiar face she met. A sturdy young man stood before her, with short brown hair and wearing weathered spacer gear, his own hands held low in a submissive gesture. He hardly breathed as he awaited further movement from her, seemingly expecting her to attack, but his anxiety left him in a quick huff when she, too, remained in place.

"Master Natiyr," he began carefully, his voice calm and almost warm. "I'm not here to hurt you, or him. We've not met before, but...I think you know who I am."

Mand let go of a soft breath herself. Of course she knew who he was; she had immediately recognized those green-brown eyes in every Sheridan man she'd ever met. Those blasted genes were _so_ strong. "Max..."

Max nodded weakly with a small smile, relaxing his posture as he stepped closer. "It is nice to finally meet you in person. I've heard a lot about you. Not from my uncle, but...from a number of sources, all over the galaxy. You're a bit of a legend in certain circles."

A small alarm was sounding in the back of her mind, rendering her far more wary of this Sheridan than she had expected to be. His casual attitude as he praised her was so...confident. What exactly was his intent? "...and what circles are those?"

Max shrugged lightly. "Some a little more reputable than others. But all of them share the same reverence - tales about the daughter of a powerful, dangerous man, a woman who was the only Jedi to face him and live to talk about it... You earned a lot of respect a long time ago, and it's only grown since."

So he knew how capable of a fighter she was, yet he didn't appear threatened by her. He hadn't yet reached for a weapon, nor did he even appear to be carrying one. "First I've heard of it. But I don't make a habit of listening for gossip about myself."

"Very wise," Max approved with a nod. "And not surprising in the least."

"So," she sighed with disinterest, "you seem to know a great deal about me. I know almost nothing about you."

She wasn't expecting his expression to become so penitent. "I know. For good reason. I do intend to change that, though, and soon. My brother should be arriving any minute, and we'll have a lot to...discuss." He paused briefly, glancing at Horatio's form behind her. "Can you wake him up? He needs to hear this, too."

The words had already left her mouth before she'd thought to form them.

"He looked for you," she breathed, easily recalling the look of intense distress on Horatio's face as he realized he'd lost his then-seven-year-old nephew Max when Soran's spicer group had vanished. "He looked for you for a long time, after we escaped that spice mine."

Max's posture visibly sagged with guilt he seemed to shoulder every day as he looked at his uncle. "I know. But it's not his fault he couldn't find me... I _had_ to actively evade him. And I will explain why," he hesitated a moment as he glanced at his wrist commpad, finding sudden urgency in its reading. "I will explain everything, just please, hurry. When Aalon arrives, he will be very, _very_ upset."

The last thing Horatio needed while he continued to recover was a rapid spike in blood pressure, but perhaps she could keep it under control for him. Only reluctantly agreeing to Max's request, she turned and touched her fingers to Horatio's forehead, brushing the Force through his consciousness to rouse him. He moaned softly as his head lilted from side to side, but once his eyes opened and his mind snapped them into sharp focus, she knew he was alert enough for the news.

"Horatio," she soothed, "...Max is here."

Her words echoed about the room for only a brief moment before he turned to look at his oldest nephew behind her. He stared with disbelief, silent and moving only to reach up for her assistance. She slowly pulled him into a sitting position, supporting him with an arm around his shoulders as he swung his feet off the bed, and thankfully he remained seated. She wasn't sure his legs would support his weight had he tried to stand so quickly after waking. Though his hand reflexively pressed against his healing side, he made no outward expression of pain for once, much to her surprise. His shock over seeing his nephew for the first time in more than two decades might have negated any discomfort he felt, but she could address it later. The three Sheridan men had never met together in any capacity before; it had taken the kidnapping of their cousin, Horatio's daughter, to effect that.

As Max had expected, his brother Aalon came charging into the room within seconds, unmasked and armed with a blaster and a wild, furious expression on his face. At seeing his half-brother Max, though, Aalon immediately froze in place as Max was quick to lift both of his hands again in submission.

A tense silence gripped them all, leaving Mand and Horatio in bewildered suspense about what had put the Hunter Lead into such a state. Aimed at his brother, Aalon's hand gripping his blaster visibly trembled with anxiety, and he made no move to lower it. Max offered no defense, either, though he seemed to know exactly what Aalon's issue was. They were locked in a bitter stalemate until Aalon finally found his breath to speak.

"... _where is she?_ "

Mand's heart sank as she held even tighter to Horatio's shoulders. Not Jewel, not again...

Max remained resolute against his brother's rage. "My droid took her home to her _family._ She is _safe_ with her mother and her brother there. And the Paneau will protect her."

Beside her, Horatio was weakened with relief. "You're sure...you're sure they have her?"

Max nodded with a brief glance at him. "I got word from Bex just before you woke up."

The Hunter Lead wasn't placated in the slightest, but even more enraged. "How the _hell_ did you get in here!"

"The same way my droid did," Max returned with calculated strength, "with the right access codes. I can tell you a lot about your compound right now, and you are _not_ going to like it."

Again the two brothers locked defiant gazes as Aalon shook with fury and Max seemed to expect it, nearly gloating and goading the younger to his breaking point. Four years separated the two Sheridans in age, but their stubbornness was so evenly matched. It seemed to be another strong genetic trait.

"Aalon," Mand pleaded gently for his deescalation, but it was Max's offer that finally lowered the Hunter Lead's aim.

"...I know who put that bounty on Jewel. It's why I'm here."

Horatio got to his feet from his bed, hanging on Max's every word. Mand kept a firm grip on his upper arm, though, carefully monitoring his condition in case he were to crash. Aalon still held his blaster at his side, but he, too, was fixated on his older brother.

"It was Azira."

Again Mand's heart felt as heavy as durasteel. It was a part of her past she had long buried, and it was a name she hadn't heard in decades. "But...the Huxnel were captured...detained, _years_ ago by the New Republic."

Max nodded to her. "They were. Azira was the only one of the Huxnel command staff to have escaped. She was being transferred from a New Republic detention center not long into her sentence when she managed to free herself, and she killed all the guards who were transporting her. She disappeared, quickly, and it's been a complete mystery what she's been up to...until now.

"I know I don't have to remind any of you who my father was. What I didn't even know until after his death, though, was that his spice empire was only a small part of his entire enterprise. The rest of it was a vast, expansive network. Of information. Encrypted communication pathways. Back doors spliced in and out of almost every other criminal venture in the galaxy." He paused, briefly hesitant as he looked to his brother. "It didn't take me very long to discover the fingers he had through every aspect of even your Guild, Aalon, under Asakura. I don't think he was using his connection to run the Guild behind the Hunter Lead, but I think he liked that it kept him in the know. Maybe it was an early warning system for him; he'd know almost as soon as the Guildmaster did if a bounty had been put up on him or on any of his allies."

The look on Aalon's face was difficult to decipher. "...that can't be true."

"It is, and you know it is. You just don't want to admit it. It's how that bounty came through on Jewel, only it didn't come from me. That...was Azira's doing. But it was my fault.

"As much as I was using my father's network to dismantle it, I began to notice that someone else had the same access that I did, and was undoing all of my sabotage behind me. I knew it wasn't anyone within his spicer group; none of them were smart enough or had the right connections. It was coming from elsewhere. I spent years following it, getting close a few times, but she was always just a step ahead. I had suspected for a long time that she was the one behind it; it was what she'd tried to do with the Huxnel, after all, but I could never confirm it. So I set a trap."

Looking to his uncle, Max continued carefully, clearly remorseful. "She knew it was you who had betrayed them to the New Republic, getting almost all of them arrested and put away for life more than thirty years ago. The Huxnel incarcerated with her confessed after she escaped that she was obsessed with hunting you down, no matter how long it took. So I baited her. I planted small delayed blips of intel about you every few months, intel I'd gather from and relay to your son Wil, too. I knew you were always careful, rarely retracing your steps unless necessary, so I thought I would have enough time to catch her before she ever got to you, but," his voice faded, significantly weakened by guilt, "...I made a mistake. She discovered Jewel on a travel manifest I had intended to bury and she followed it to Dantooine, then she made the connection herself. The bounty followed soon after.

"I sent a warning to Wil to protect Jewel as quickly as he could while I tried to follow the Guild's back door before the track disappeared. That transmission came from an abandoned station in the Rishi System, where I just came back from, and I think that's where she is right now." Max turned to meet Horatio's gaze once more, pleading. "We _need_ to stop her."

Another heavy silence hung in the air for long, painful moments, even subduing all movement from any of them as they processed Max's revelations until Horatio slowly sank to sit on his bed behind him. Afraid he was collapsing again, Mand reached up and steadied his upper body by both shoulders, desperately searching his face for a response. "Horatio? Horatio!"

Eventually he met her gaze, his eyes expressing nothing but sheer dread and guilt. It had happened, she sensed in his feelings, his worst nightmare had come true: his children had been targeted by his enemies because of their connection to him, and he had been completely unable to prevent it. He had failed them.

"How are we supposed to believe that _anything_ you've said is true?"

Aalon's heated challenge was rebuffed by Max almost immediately, playing out like a normal sibling rivalry.

"I got into your compound without you knowing, didn't I?"

"That only means you've got an insider here. How do we know _you're_ not the one who put the bounty on Jewel?"

"...he didn't, Aalon."

Horatio's voice was so distant, Mand was briefly unsure if it was he who had spoken. He had locked gazes with Max, having already come to a mutual understanding with his elder nephew despite Aalon's patent distrust. Though she wasn't yet sure herself, either, she could see in Horatio's expression that he believed Max wholeheartedly, and it only infuriated Aalon further.

"Look, I'll show you my father's network while we're on our way to the Rishi System, but we should leave, now." With a pointed glance at Aalon, Max kept an even tone. "Azira is still expecting a return on that bounty. We can take her by surprise, before she finds out that Jewel is already out of her reach." Getting no definitive response from any of them, he continued to plead his case. "Horatio, you and Master Natiyr both know firsthand just how dangerous Azira is. You know she can't have free reign like this."

With only a moment's pause, Horatio nodded and returned to his feet, slowly drawing himself up to his full height for the first time in days.


	14. Chapter 14

Though they were less than an hour into their hyperspace jump to the Rishi System, Horatio had already retreated to the far corner of the main hold. Away from his nephews who had wordlessly positioned themselves at the controls of his own ship, and away from his former partner who would insist on talking to him the entire trip, if he gave her the opportunity. He had so much new information to process, he needed the time to himself as they prepared to confront a terrible ghost from his past.

Such monumental guilt had settled on his shoulders, knowing that his choice to betray the Huxnel years ago had put his daughter and his son in so much peril, and it left him numb, occasionally forcing him to remind himself to breathe. It was his deepest, most painful fear come true, even though he thought he'd taken the necessary precautions to prevent it. His efforts had all been for naught, nearly taking his son from him, and he had no idea how to even begin to beg for forgiveness from Wil. Would Wil even want to speak to him again? His children both deserved better than what he had given them, better than the horrible mistakes he'd made, but how could he protect them when he'd run out of options? He was the common denominator, the sole detriment to their safety, so...he needed to remove _himself_ from their lives completely, he reasoned. If Azira was to be found on this excursion to Rishi, he decided he'd have an opportunity to do just that.

Again interrupting his thoughts, Mand strode up and sat beside him, silently holding a ration bar out to him. He stared at it for a lengthy moment, letting go of a weary, defeated breath.

"Not hungry."

She persisted, practically placing it in his hand resting on his lap. "Horatio, you _need_ to eat. I kept you sleeping for almost two days. You need protein to continue healing."

As much as he wanted to refuse further, he knew it was a fight she would continue, wearing him down even more. He tore a few disinterested bites from the tasteless block to appease her, faintly hoping she would leave him be once more, but she remained. They sat together for some time in the quiet as he continued to eat meagerly, with only the sound of the hyperdrive humming underneath them framing the moment. His hand throbbed as he gripped the ration bar, but thankfully not nearly as bad as it had in the past, and his side, he suddenly noticed, was nothing more than a dull ache. Whatever she had done while he'd been sleeping had helped him tremendously. In a way, he came to recognize, he no longer had need of her...

"You should have gone home, Kil."

Still looking at the floor between his feet, he felt her gaze on him, though she said nothing in return. Did she feel the same way?

"We did what we came to do," he continued weakly, "we found Jewel. She's back where she belongs now. You should be with your family, too."

Another brief silence stretched between them, and though Mand drew in and released a lengthy breath, she seemed to study him even longer before responding.

"I came to see this through with you," she breathed with care, placing her hand lightly on his thigh. "Besides...you're not the only one here who's crossed the Huxnel. I'm sure you remember that I'm the one who left _you_ behind, years before you gave them up to the New Republic. Azira has just as much reason to come after me and my family as she does yours. Like Max said, she needs to be stopped."

He hadn't intended to speak his doubts aloud, especially not to her, but the words came anyway. "If she's even the one who's actually behind all this."

"...you don't believe him?"

Frustrated with his dilemma, he tossed the remainder of his ration bar aside and brought his hands up to his face, hunching over to support himself on his elbows. He massaged his forehead, deciding how best to respond.

"...I don't know if I can believe either of them, Kil. I know next to nothing about them. About their lives, about the men that they've become over the past thirty years, at least beyond what they've told me, if any of it is even true. They're my blood, my sister's sons, but...for them to have both come back to me at this exact moment, at the same time, when I'm at my lowest, most desperate... I don't know if I can trust them."

Her voice was so delicate against his strained exasperation.

"Trust never has come easy to you. I remember that very well." She paused a moment, her words hardly audible. "...can you trust me?"

Looking over at her for the first time since she'd sat down with him, he lowered his hands and studied her eyes, her face he'd known longer than any other constant in his life. Once begrudging partners who then quickly bonded over dangerous and nearly disastrous missions for the Huxnel in their teens, then foils on opposite sides of a number of offenses on Paneau as young adults, they now sat together as equals, no longer intent on edging the other out or deceiving each other. The wise Jedi Master had shown him nothing but compassion since rescuing him from near death within his own home, reacting at a moment's notice to a call for help from his son, though he still didn't feel he deserved it. He had lashed out at her repeatedly, out of anger and fear of losing his children, but she hadn't yet abandoned him. More than anyone else he could have at his side as he faced a long-forgotten enemy, his former partner was the one he realized he needed.

His nod was small but sincere, and it brought a faint smile to her face as she nodded, too. Their relationship had begun long ago on the rockiest of foundations, but aside from the mother of his daughter, Mand had become the closest thing he had to a friend, and the feeling left him finally...relieved.

"Coming out of hyperspace," Max called back toward them needlessly, as the telltale whine of the slowing hyperdrive would have alerted them anyway. Mand gripped Horatio's shoulder briefly as a wordless gesture of support before she stood from his side, making her way up to the cockpit behind the two younger Sheridans. Horatio followed after a moment, watching his nephews warily as they navigated his ship, Wil's ship, with ease.

"We finished our jump on the other side of Rishi," Aalon informed them, pulling up a holomap of the system as he pointed out their target destination behind the blue-green world. "The planet's interference should have hidden our arrival from the station. There's not much traffic out here, except for whatever Azira's team is moving in and out, so we don't want to be spotted just yet."

Horatio furrowed his brows. "So how do we get into the station?"

"We could time our approach," Max offered. "There aren't that many ships coming and going. We could move in when the last one leaves and before the next one arrives."

"There's no way Azira wouldn't have a dozen sensors scanning for an errant ship heading her way. She'd be prepared for that, and she'd destroy us before we got anywhere near the hangar."

Just beside him, Mand answered him with a distant tone, her gaze fixed out the viewport. "Not if the sensors didn't pick us up in the first place."

The three men turned to look at her simultaneously, and Max almost laughed. "I hope you're not suggesting we leave the ship here and spacewalk the rest of the way."

But Mand remained resolute. "Shut down all of the ship's systems, everything electrical. I can get us there without any propulsion, and their scanners won't detect a thing. Even if someone is looking this way, they won't see this small ship until it's too late."

Max and Aalon exchanged uneasy glances, and Horatio couldn't help but look to her with doubt, as well. She met his gaze, though, with a fire and a surety in her eyes he had seen only a few times before.

"I _can_ do this."

Hesitating only a moment longer, Horatio nodded to Max, agreeing to her plan. Max returned to the controls, preparing to power it all down.

"Going dark..."

The _Shadow Nova_ shuddered and reluctantly whined to a complete halt, every light dimming as all electrical processes were turned off in succession. Complete silence lingered in the cockpit for a long, tense moment before Aalon stood from his seat at the controls, wordlessly offering it to Mand. She took it gracefully, and Horatio watched her intently as she closed her eyes and drew in a slow, deep breath. Her hand floated up as she extended it forward, her expression remaining serene as she concentrated, and within seconds, the _Shadow Nova_ gently drifted ahead, stealing Horatio's attention.

Coming around to Rishi's shadowed side, they could see the station Azira had taken over, a derelict refueling depot left behind in the Clone Wars, hovering just beyond the planet's moon. It wasn't a very large structure, but it had a substantial communications relay mounted at its top. The relay's durasteel appeared newer, less weathered by time, so perhaps it was a custom addition by Azira herself. The station's hangar, where Horatio assumed they were headed, was open and seemingly empty, even as the _Shadow Nova_ closed in on its containment field. No new ships were leaving, and none were arriving, except for one unexpected guest...

Horatio returned his gaze to Mand, surprised to see beads of sweat already forming above her brow. Her hand, still outstretched, trembled faintly as she remained deeply focused on her task, but it was the only movement she made. The Force was guiding the ship along its gentle, silent course, and Mand was its conduit. They were so close to the station already, just a few dozen kilometers from the hangar, and Horatio couldn't help but pull his blaster from its holster at his thigh as a reflex. His nephews had the same thought, he noticed, as they, too, armed themselves for a fight they could sense coming.

As the hangar slowly began to fill the viewport, Horatio noticed just a handful of smaller vessels docked within it, and thankfully they were all similar in size and appearance to the _Shadow Nova_. There were no identifying markings or color schemes on any of the craft or the cargo crates stacked nearby that he could see, meaning their ship would blend in with the others just fine for the time being. Until someone got a closer look at its occupants, the four of them could remain within the station undetected while they made their way to Azira. Their plan was little more than infiltrate and attack, but it didn't need much else, did it?

Ending the intense silence, Mand's outstretched hand slowly lowered as she eased the ship down and a noticeable thud echoed through the entire hangar when it settled on its base. She relinquished her hold through the Force and nearly collapsed in her seat, finally heaving deep, labored breaths as she recovered from the exertion. Though he lightly gripped her shoulder to support her from his seat beside her, Max kept a sharp eye out the viewport and monitored for any alarms or any activity around the unannounced arrival, but amazingly the hangar remained silent. Once she was finally able to raise herself back up, Mand looked to the others expectantly, still calming her breathing.

"Your turn."

With a faint grin, Max held out his palm, projecting a holomap of the station into the air between the four of them. "I was able to find this on my father's network when I was out here yesterday. It's probably outdated, and it definitely doesn't have any of Azira's modifications on it, but I think it's safe to assume she'll be somewhere near the communications center," he indicated a room towards the top of the station. "It could be heavily guarded."

Mand's gaze had become distant once more. "The majority of what I'm sensing is below us, not above. If she is up there, we shouldn't meet too much resistance."

"What kind of operation, exactly, is she running in this facility anyway, Max?"

Horatio's question brought all eyes onto Max, who hesitated briefly as he powered down the projector in his hand. "I don't know. All I observed yesterday was a handful of ships leaving, and a different handful of ships arriving. She's got to be moving something in and out of here, but I don't know what it is. She's kept it quiet."

"We should get moving," Aalon redirected, nervously glancing out into the hangar as his hand gripping his blaster twitched. "The longer we sit here, the greater our chances of being found."

Though the lack of information didn't sit well with Horatio, he had to agree with Aalon; they were wasting precious time when they had already been afforded an unexpected advantage over their target. He looked to Mand, briefly assessing her state of recovery. Would she recognize the question he'd left unasked? "Can you keep us ahead of any patrols or anyone who might spot us?"

The look in her eyes as she met his gaze told him she understood, and she nodded gracefully to answer him. Of course he knew she had the capacity to sense their surroundings and know well ahead of time if they were about to encounter a sentry; his question meant something else entirely. He couldn't have been more appreciative of the communication skills they'd perfected together years ago, allowing them to share thoughts with each other without fear of eavesdroppers catching on to their plans.

His nephews seemed none the wiser as they moved towards the rear of the ship, expecting them to follow, and Mand joined them a few seconds later. Horatio, though, had to pause a moment, looking around the cockpit in a daze as memories hit him out of nowhere. He suddenly saw his son Wil seated at the controls, wide-eyed and elated at being gifted the ship just a few years prior, well before Horatio had betrayed him and changed his life forever... He released a short breath and quickly shook his head to clear his mind, catching up with the others as the ship's loading ramp lowered. It was far too late, though, to remedy the awful feeling he'd been left with in the wake of his bittersweet memory...that he'd seen his son and the _Shadow Nova_ for the last time.


	15. Chapter 15

Wil stared through the window of Jewel's room, unable to move, much less go inside to join her mother at her bedside. Jewel slept peacefully in the large, plush bed that dwarfed her, but Liaa hadn't let go of her hand since the girl had been settled in, and the two had been alone for some time. Wil instead felt inexplicably drawn...elsewhere, but he couldn't quite pinpoint why. Perhaps, as much as his heart had fought against it, he'd finally given into his father's efforts to remove him from Jewel's life as a means of protecting them both. Clearly it hadn't worked, he mused bitterly, since she had been targeted anyway, but...maybe it _was_ for the best, if given enough time.

Jewel wasn't a Rys'tihn. She was his half-sister, but Wil intended to one day soon take up his mother's mantle as a Rys'tihn Ghost Heir; he couldn't serve as a protector of both the Rys'tihns and a twi'lek hybrid girl, especially when each job would pull him to opposite edges of the galaxy simultaneously. Liaa had told him Horatio had regretted his decision to leave Wil behind, but maybe there _had_ been subtle wisdom in his painful decision. Was that the inner torment he felt? Knowing how much his father had hurt him, but also knowing that it had still been the right choice? Or was there something else entirely that was straining his heart?

Though he expected the Paneau guard to make his rounds and approach him with his report again, it was Master Rech Natiyr who slowly stepped up beside him, remaining silent as his sightless gaze calmly studied him. Wil already knew the answer, but he engaged the Jedi for his assessment anyway.

"How is she?"

Rech hesitated a moment, briefly confused by his unexpected question. "Perfectly fine. I've run every exam I can: she had no injuries or wounds, she was properly nourished and hydrated, and she should be waking up soon. The sedative she'd been given was powerful, but her system will clear it out in a few hours." Perceptive as always, though, he released a slow breath as he lightly placed a hand on Wil's shoulder. "But that's not what's troubling you."

Still looking into the room, Wil clenched his jaw, frustrated by his ineffectual position and ongoing anxiety.

"Bex told us they knew that she had been sent home, that she's safe here now. Why didn't they come back with her? Why haven't we heard from them?"

Rech considered his questions with little reaction; he seemed to already be wondering the same thing. "I don't know. Bex didn't say?"

Wil shook his head. "He won't say much of anything. I just..." he sighed, struggling to understand his concern, much less explain it to someone else. "I feel like something's wrong. Like there's something we're missing, and they're walking into a trap, wherever they are...and I don't know why."

Again the wise Master was silent a long moment, worrying Wil further. Did he feel it, too?

"...they never told you, did they?"

"Never told me what?"

"Your Rys'tihn cousins aren't the only Jedi on your mother's side. I discovered that your uncle Koril was Force sensitive years ago, before any of your cousins were born, and it's apparently run in the family for a long time. Your mother likely had it, too, and it wouldn't surprise me if you do, as well."

Wil furrowed his brows, unsure why his family wouldn't have mentioned it to him over the years. "So...I can connect with the Force? It's telling me that my dad is in trouble?"

"Perhaps."

"Do you sense the same thing about your wife?"

Rech cast his gaze aside briefly in thought. "Mand would let me know if she felt that they had gotten to a point where they needed help."

"Then I shouldn't worry?"

Still gripping his shoulder, Rech squeezed it gently. "Your uncle was frequently given specific, potent warnings about the future through the Force, often accompanied by visions. I don't know if that was the case with your mother, but...if it's something you feel strongly about, you have the choice to act on it."

Wil hardly breathed, his anxiety tightening its hold on his chest. "...would you?"

A weak sympathetic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he dropped his hand. "Had you not needed such extensive healing, I would have already gone with them when they left. Trouble always seems to find its way to my wife, and your father is no different. The two of them together could probably use all the help they can get."

After he gave Wil a faint bow, Rech turned and stepped into Jewel's room, briefly tending to the girl as Wyliaa looked on with a bright smile. They exchanged a few quick words Wil couldn't hear, but he didn't need to. It didn't take Liaa long to meet Wil's gaze as her expression fell, and he knew immediately what Rech had told her. He could easily see in her eyes her worry for him, but he put as much confidence and determination as he could behind his own. With a twinge of sadness but acceptance of his decision to leave, Liaa gave him a small nod, sending him on his way with her reluctant blessing. He thanked her with a nod, as well, giving a short, shrill whistle to call his tooka Phantom to him. Recovered well from her own injuries, Phantom bounded down the hall eagerly, swishing her fluffy tail behind her as Wil grabbed his jacket and holstered his blaster at his side.

"Ready, girl?"

Phantom answered with a firm _mrrow_ as she affectionately brushed her body against his legs, looking up to him for direction. He wasn't immediately certain what his plan was going to be, but as he stared far down the hallway in thought, a solution suddenly came into focus. A familiar astromech, alone and furtively turning his dome about to be sure he hadn't earned anyone's attention, silently rolled his way toward the hangar. The unassuming Sheridan droid was making another sneaky escape, and something, perhaps the Force, told Wil to follow him.

* * *

The silent ascent of the four up into Azira's Rishi facility had so far gone without any alarms being raised or encountering any rogue guards, and Horatio's internal chrono was nearing the end of its countdown. They would certainly be coming up on some kind of unexpected obstacle or attack any minute now within the dim, decaying station, he could just feel it. His luck couldn't be, and had never been, this good.

Leading the group down a corridor with the facility's holomap in one hand, Max held his other up to halt the others behind him as they came to a crossing. He carefully peered around the corner, studying the adjoining hall only a few quick seconds before returning to them and powering down the projector to arm himself instead.

"Main communications center is just behind that door," he informed them quietly. "No guard posted."

"If there are any," Horatio noted gruffly, "they'd be inside with her. Azira always kept her guards close."

"We take them out first," Aalon asserted, but Mand was quick to counter, her words sharp.

"Azira is a wanted fugitive of the New Republic. We are here to _apprehend_ her, and any of her crew. Is that understood?"

She looked pointedly to each of the men, awaiting a nod from them all. Horatio was the most reluctant, holding her gaze defiantly to test her before he finally relented. She held no weapon at her side, having foregone even her lightsaber since their capture at the Bounty Hunters Guild base, but she was a dangerous weapon herself. He knew that well.

With another swift survey of their surroundings, Max led them to the large bulkhead door, punching in a rapid sequence onto his wrist commpad as they approached. The lumbering door yawned open, revealing an equally darkened room illuminated only by a central holo console, projecting a number of design specs and spinning objects in the air. Two people stood before the console, a slight, old human woman with short, spiky platinum hair and a tall, broad Trandoshan male, and neither appeared interrupted by the sound of the opening door behind them. They spoke quietly to each other, and it wasn't until the four of them stepped closer, side by side in a line blocking the door, did Horatio finally hear what they were saying and immediately recognize Azira's sharp voice.

"...not ready, but it'll have to do. Just get those crates packed for the next shipment, we'll deal with it later."

Both Azira and the Trandoshan turned toward their surprise guests, quickly halted as they noticed their company and the three blasters suddenly trained on them. Azira's ice blue eyes widened in patent alarm as she quickly recognized Horatio and Mand, two of her most dangerous operatives standing before her uninvited. She even appeared nervous and afraid as she stood motionless and awaited an attack from them, but when none came, her gaze found Aalon familiar, as well, and her expression slowly morphed from shock to a devious grin.

"Well done, Mr. Roeken," she sneered with a short laugh. "I am impressed."

Shards of ice tore through Horatio's veins as he recognized what had just happened. _That_ was the warning he'd felt in the back of his mind since they'd begun their trek through the station... His youngest nephew, the Hunter Lead and the one he had been the most reluctant to trust, had delivered them right into Azira's hands.

Mand stood between Aalon and Horatio on his left, and with the smallest of movements, he felt her grip his hand at his side as she shook her head the faintest bit to stay his reflexive response. His blaster was still trained on Azira and the Trandoshan ahead of them, but Aalon had turned his onto Mand, the closest to him. Horatio and Max lowered their weapons and dropped them to the floor reluctantly; the tension in the air could have suffocated them all.

"I want triple my rate."

Azira narrowed her eyes at Aalon, clearly displeased with his new terms. "Double."

"Triple the return, triple the credits."

"I don't even know who this one is," Azira scoffed as she gestured toward Max who stood to Horatio's right. "You're in no position to offer me someone I didn't ask for and make that kind of demand."

Mand's voice was low but pointed. "Aalon... _don't_ do this..."

But Aalon ignored her, readily giving up his brother without any hint of remorse. "He alone is worth the price. Maxoran Redgrave, the ghost you've been chasing in your network."

Azira's eyes widened and flashed to Max instantly, recognition rolling over her expression. "Soran's son... Of course. I see the resemblance now." She shrewdly studied each of the Sheridan men in turn, eventually nodding to Aalon. "Fine. I'll pay you triple, if that's what it takes to ease your conscience for betraying your brother and your uncle." Though Horatio refused to look at him, Aalon's expression must have faltered somehow, and Azira took notice with a wry grin. "Yes, I know you are a Sheridan, Mr. Roeken. At least, by blood. You were raised by...a different caliber of family. Although," she paused briefly, taking a few steps towards Max as she discussed him instead. "You two aren't that dissimilar, you know. Mr. Redgrave here is, after all, suspected of killing his own father...for _substantial_ personal gain." She looked to Mand. "Did you teach him that?"

Mand's hand around his tightened the slightest bit, but the only trembling he could perceive was his own; Mand remained resolute against Azira's icy stare. The old Huxnel Admiral reveled in their collective dread, though, crossing her arms over her chest as she paced before them. "I can't imagine that you three would have come so willingly to my door had you known you were becoming my captives...which means you came expecting to exact revenge." Her expression darkened. "Where is the girl?"

"She's safe," Max answered with emphasis, "where you can't touch her."

Azira matched Max's defiant gaze. "We'll see about that. With you out of my way, I could send a hundred bounty hunters to Paneau, where I'm sure you've stashed her, and you couldn't stop me. They'll tear through your stubborn and meddling family, too," she told Mand, "after I'm through with you."

Mand's voice was so...calm against Azira's icy venom. "You're delusional. They would not trade my life for the life of a child."

"You weren't listening," Azira sneered. "I don't need them to. Not after I arm the entire Guild with my new weapons. You Jedi won't stand a chance. For the first time in a millennia...the playing field will _finally_ be even."

Horatio's breath froze in his chest, unsure what kind of terrible weapon Azira could have created that had given her such intense confidence as she stared down the most powerful Force user Horatio had ever known. Mand's expression hadn't changed, though, prompting Azira to continue.

"I've learned so much since you left us, my dear... I know how to better handle you now. I will admit that at this particular moment, I am not as prepared as I wanted to be, but...you are still a _welcome_ surprise." With a quick glance at Aalon beside Mand, Azira nodded. "Stun her."

The words had no sooner left Azira's lips when Horatio felt Mand's hold on his hand loosen as she almost threw his arm away from her, sparing him from also receiving the stun bolt intended for her. She gave only a weak grunt as the charge shut her down a moment later, reducing her to the floor in a heap and only just holding onto consciousness. Beside him, Max was quick to grip Horatio's upper arm as he began to lunge for Azira, keeping him in place though he wanted nothing more than to fight back.

"I'll start with you, Mr. Redgrave. You'll give me the rest of the codes that I don't have for your father's network," Azira concluded as she turned to leave, meeting Horatio's gaze as she passed him. "You'll have to wait your turn."

Aalon stepped up behind his brother, pressing the barrel of his blaster into Max's back and ushering him away with Azira as the lumbering Trandoshan approached Horatio and Mand's crumpled form on the floor. Soft moans escaped her as she fought the stun bolt's effects, and her eyes even began to flutter before the Trandoshan delivered a swift kick across her head, gashing her temple open and sealing her in unconsciousness.

Unrestrained this time and blinded by rage, Horatio launched himself toward the Trandoshan - to be stopped almost immediately as another stun bolt rang out, his muscles suddenly seizing and his vision blurring. He collapsed helplessly, watching his nephew lowering his blaster he'd fired from the doorway as darkness pulled him under just beside his former partner.


	16. Chapter 16

The painful, hazy return to consciousness after suffering the effects of a stun bolt was nothing new to Horatio. His head and his side throbbed, as he expected them to, but he also expected to find new wounds elsewhere. He had just watched Azira's lieutenant deliver a vicious kick to his former partner's head, after all, and he hadn't done a thing to prevent it. They could have done far worse to him, though he worried more for Mand. If she hadn't already been incapacitated by Aalon's stun bolt, the Trandoshan's strike would have certainly knocked her out, if it hadn't actually _killed_ her...

Horatio's stomach churned violently with the thought. Willing his battered body to move with urgency, he held his side as he sat up from the floor and took in his new surroundings. He'd been moved to a small, dark cell, and it was quiet. He was alone - no Mand, no Max. A containment field along one of the four walls was the only way in or out, though he could see through to the neighboring cells on either side of him by way of vertical, narrow slits spaced apart close to the floor. The cell to his right seemed to be empty on first glance, but to his left, he immediately spotted an outstretched woman's hand, motionless and palm up on the grimy floor. It had to be her. His heart caught in his throat as he quickly crawled towards her, looking into her cell to assess her. She was alone, too, sprawled carelessly on her back with her face turned away from him, and she was so deathly, eerily still...

"...Kil?"

He watched her for a long moment, in total disbelief that not even her chest lifted with breathing motion. Panicked, he managed to stretch one arm through the closest opening in the wall, desperately reaching out to her. He could only barely brush her fingers, so he strained even more, bruising and stressing his shoulder and arm muscles to their max as his hand _finally_ closed around hers and pulled it closer. Her arm extended limply, but he wasted little time, his fingers frantically fumbling around her wrist for her pulse...

It was weak, but she was alive.

Letting go of a tense breath he had been holding, Horatio gripped Mand's hand tightly, curling her fingers around his as he lifted and gently shook her arm to rouse her. He kept his voice low, though, to avoid earning attention from anyone outside their cells...

"Kil? Come on, Kil, you've got to wake up... _Kil..."_

He continued to call for her, begging for her to respond, but she remained so still for several terrible minutes...until he heard her sharp inhalation and subsequent moans and gasps of pain. Her hand in his began to tremble as she came around, struggling to get a handle on the agony he was certain she was feeling from her head injury. Separated from her by a cell wall, though, he comforted her the only way he could, massaging the back of her hand with his thumb as he weakly called her name again.

"Kil..."

She slowly turned her head towards him, allowing him to finally see the horrible gash across her right temple that was still oozing bright red blood down her face. With great effort, she released a slow breath, controlling her pain and neutralizing her expression as she met his gaze. "Horatio..." He nodded weakly to her, still holding tightly to her hand as she briefly closed her eyes. "My head..."

He swallowed before responding to stifle his rage and guilt. "The Trandoshan took a cheap shot at you after you'd been stunned."

She accepted his revelation so casually, yet a moment later, her eyes widened with fear as she returned to him. "Are _you_ okay?"

The question left him somewhat baffled. How could she possibly be concerned about him while she had her own obvious suffering to deal with? His strength had all but left him. "...I'm fine, Kil."

Her relief was shortlived. "And Max?"

A chilling scream of pain echoed down the corridor to them before he could respond, startling them both. It was greatly muffled and distorted by distance and obstacles as it continued, but Horatio already knew it belonged to his nephew Max, and again he had difficulty finding his voice. "Azira took him first."

Max's torture went on for an agonizing minute, and it wasn't until he felt Mand's hand squeeze his that he realized he hadn't taken a breath in that long. He drew it in shakily, focusing his gaze on her once more as he spoke with a voice that was just as troubled. Their situation was deteriorating rapidly, and he'd made his decision.

"When you get the chance...you need to get out of here, Kil."

Though he had spoken clearly, she appeared confused. "...what?"

"You're the only one of us who can escape. I _know_ you can, and you _have_ to."

"Horatio," she shook her head at him, tightening her fingers around his again. "I'm not leaving you behind, you or Max. So don't talk like that - "

"I trust you to protect my children," he breathed with emotion, leaving the rest of his thoughts unsaid. _I trust you to protect them, because I know I won't be around to..._ "Please, Kil... I need you to do this for me."

Finally understanding the gravity of his request, Mand closed her eyes briefly, seeming to draw on Force for the strength to sit up from the floor. She moved slowly, pulling on his hand for leverage as she lifted herself up, though the effort appeared to have cost her more than she had anticipated. Color drained from her face as she stilled, her breath leaving her in short spurts, yet she remained erect through sheer force of will. It would be several more moments before she composed herself and met his gaze again, but her resolve never wavered. She had nothing to prove to him, and yet she had reminded him just how resilient she could be.

"We will find a way to get out of this...all of us. We always do. Have patience, Horatio. The opportunity will come. I know it will." She paused a moment, her expression falling with regret. "...I am sorry, though."

Horatio furrowed his brows. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"You asked me to warn you if I thought one of your nephews was working against us," she needlessly reminded him of their cryptic exchange before they'd made their way into Azira's station. "I was...leaning towards Max. His inexplicably vast array of knowledge, the way he arrived at the Guild compound after so easily subverting its security... I thought he was the one leading us into a trap. I was wrong, and this is my fault. I'm sorry."

He shook his head to dismiss her regret, though he knew he couldn't say much to alleviate it. Had he been honest with himself, he would have realized that he had suspected Aalon all along, but he had instead been more desperate to be proven wrong. Perhaps that had made him blind to what should have been so obvious; a protective relative wouldn't have brought along destructive flash detonators had he truly been acting in Jewel's best interest, nor would he have nearly murdered an intervening half-brother to escape without witnesses. Aalon's excuses hadn't added up to any semblance of sense in hindsight, but longing for a relationship with his late sister's sons, Horatio had ignored the warning signs, and he shared the blame in their fate.

A blank, distant look returned to Mand's eyes briefly, concerning him that she was on the brink of blacking out, but she stubbornly fought through it. He still held her hand in a firm grip, afraid to let go though she was no longer in need of his assistance. She seemed to appreciate his gesture as their gazes lingered on each other in the moment, broken only by the sound of approaching footsteps that immediately put Horatio on edge. Were they bringing Max back from his torture session? Was he next, or would they take Mand instead since she was still weakened by her injury?

One lone figure rounded the corner and slowly approached them from the dark hallway, and rage alone lifted Horatio to his feet in an instant. Their visitor was...most unwelcome.

"If it's not the traitor himself," Horatio seethed, meeting his nephew's reciprocal dark glare. He paced the path in front of the containment field, steering attention away from Mand in the cell beside his as much as possible. "I thought you'd be long gone by now. Come to gloat some more? Or has Azira just not paid you yet?"

Even in the face of his uncle's fury, Aalon's expression changed little. No hint of remorse or guilt, just...blank disinterest. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned his back against the wall behind him, a casual tone in his voice.

"We're still working on the details. She owes me some weapons, and a lot more credits."

"Right," Horatio growled. "Credits. Trading away your family, _your blood_ , for a business transaction. Never would've thought that a choice like that would sit so easily with a Sheridan."

Aalon's eyes narrowed noticeably; Horatio seemed to have finally struck a nerve, but the Hunter Lead withheld his response a long, tense moment.

"...you want me to tell you that it was a difficult decision?" Aalon gave a short huff, shrugging as he shook his head. "It wasn't. The _second_ the two of you stepped foot in my compound...was the second my decision was made for me.

"It's no secret that Azira's been after you for years for what you did to the Huxnel. If she had found out that I'd had the two of you in my custody, and I had let you go? ...she would have destroyed my Guild without a second thought.

"I don't have any loyalty to you. But to my hunters? I owe them everything. And they owe me. So yeah...you were a business transaction. _They_ are my family. I'll do whatever it takes to protect them."

Horatio stood just before the containment field, its energy raising the hair on his skin as a warning of his close proximity to its barrier. He paid it no mind, though, staring his nephew down as a fierce, icy tremor tore through his chest. He could no longer believe that his sister's son had become so callous, so heartless, when all he'd known of Recero was her unyielding love for her twin brother. The two of them were the only family they'd known for years. Separated as young orphaned children, they'd crossed paths only a handful of times before she'd succumbed to her illness in her early adulthood, but they'd always felt connected with that indescribable familial bond, that innate drive to protect each other... How had Aalon been steered so wrong? He was well beyond redemption, that seemed painfully clear; ...was that Horatio's fault?

Somehow he eventually managed to respond, his rage long since replaced by sorrow and pity for his wayward nephew. "All that talk...about how you'd protected Jewel from harm when you took her... That you only wanted to keep her safe from that bounty, because she was _family..._ Answer me this...was all that before or after you'd decided to betray us?"

His emotional words elicited a more subtle reaction from Aalon. The younger Sheridan's jaw clenched as he looked to the floor, and his gaze never lifted, even as he responded. "...does it matter?"

The Hunter Lead's body language gave him away, and Horatio had his answer.

"...she would have been so ashamed of you."

Another set of footsteps echoing up the hallway stalled any further exchange the two Sheridan men would have, and Horatio was faintly thankful for the reprieve. Aalon turned and began to silently leave, but Azira's voice called out to him, beckoning him back.

"Mr. Roeken, don't you want to see a demonstration of your new investment?"

The silver-haired woman swiftly strolled into sight, effortlessly carrying a bulky, modified blaster rifle in her hands. Two of her lackeys followed just behind her, and between them they dragged Max's limp body to a third cell on Horatio's other side. He followed Max intently for signs of life as the two hefted him inside it and dropped him without care, sealing the cell as they left. Though Max didn't appear to be completely conscious, Horatio could hear his labored breathing as painful muscle spasms contracted his body at random, a residual effect of his intense torture at Azira's hands. Had she gotten the information she wanted out of him? Or had he held out and his body had given up first?

"My new prototype," Azira continued proudly, showing off her prized weapon to everyone present. "Guaranteed to turn the tide of any hunt, Guildmaster. Any target, any skill, any defense is useless against it," she paused briefly as she leveled her intense gaze down at Mand directly, "...even the Force."

Though intrigued, Aalon wisely kept a modest distance and fostered a healthy skepticism against Azira's lofty claims. "How can a blaster rifle possibly outmatch a Force-wielder?"

Azira grinned devilishly. "Each bolt fired is also a small incendiary explosive charge. It detonates on contact with _impressive_ power. It also detonates...if it detects even the slightest change in trajectory - say, because of a Jedi's deflection with the Force. They'll have the choice to either take the charge themselves, or risk innocent collateral damage. And knowing the Jedi that I do...they won't dare risk that. Release a punishing volley of fire, and your Jedi target will have no option but to perish."

A horrible sense of fear settled in Horatio's chest as he met Mand's gaze through a small hole midway up the wall where the panel had partially rotted away. She had the same understanding in her eyes, as they had both come to the same conclusion without speaking a word to each other: Azira's weapons needed to be destroyed before any could leave the station.

Aalon's expression, though, had changed very little as he maintained his position, much to Azira's dismay. He glanced into his brother's cell beside him, briefly watching Max as he continued to weakly convulse on the floor, but Azira grew impatient and demanded his attention instead.

"Your hunters, Guildmaster, will be an unstoppable force with these new weapons. You'll earn their undying loyalty when you equip them with such power, and the Bounty Hunters Guild will once again be feared and respected across the galaxy."

Aalon studied Azira for a long moment with a calculating gaze, seeming to suddenly see straight through the old woman's proposal. "...you don't have the credits you put down on that bounty, do you."

A brief twitch caught in Azira's eye. "...I'm offering you weapons that will double your hunters' efficiency and earn you more than triple your investment in mere _weeks._ You will regret not taking my offer."

"My hunters can supply their own blasters, and they're plenty efficient as they are. Credits, Azira, or I'll take my bounty back with me."

Though Horatio didn't know why, a loud, shrill warning began to sound in the back of his mind, and the same thing must have earned Mand's attention, as well, as she shakily pulled herself onto her feet. "Aalon..."

Without warning, a single blaster shot rang out, followed immediately by a bright, concussive explosion in the confined corridor. Horatio reflexively ducked and covered his head, falling to the far wall of his cell though the containment field protected him from the force of the blast. Too stunned to move, he hardly even breathed as he processed what had just happened in shock. His ears and his eyes were slow to recover, but...the smell...

Azira's boots clicked on the durasteel floor as she slowly moved again, and though Horatio wasn't sure if he could bear to look, he had to. He somehow got to his feet and watched as Azira knelt down next to Aalon's body that had been blasted even further down the hall. Exposed flesh still smoldered, and while there didn't appear to be much left of the Guildmaster's anterior chest wall, Azira was able to detach the undamaged commpad from Aalon's wrist and clip it to her own.

"...I told you that you would regret not taking my offer."


	17. Chapter 17

Maintaining mental sharpness through the lengthy hyperspace trip any way he could, Wil occasionally stole a careful glance out from behind his shadowed hiding spot in the ship's rear hold, keeping an eye on the oblivious droid pilot in the cockpit ahead. His furry companion Phantom at his side kept a silent vigil, too, her fluffy tail twitching faintly as the only sign of her intense focus. He wasn't sure where exactly they were headed, as he had kept himself tucked away well before their jump, but something helped him stay...perfectly patient, wholly confident that he was on the correct path. Perhaps it was the Force; he'd just learned he potentially had a connection to it, after all, and maybe it was preparing him ahead of time for what he'd need to do to rescue his father and Master Natiyr, wherever they were. Whatever they'd gotten caught up in, Wil was going to bring them home. He owed them both that much.

A noticeable slow in the engines' rumbling roar signaled the end of the hyperspace jump, and though it was risky, Wil eased himself around the bulkhead to get just a small glimpse of their location. The viewport up ahead completely filled with the darkened side of a lush, tranquil planet, but Bex was quick to navigate around it, headed instead for a small station floating beside an inert moon. The station had no noticeable logos or identifying characteristics, but its state of partial decay with a seemingly brand new communications relay recently mounted on it gave the otherwise forgettable structure an eerie, sinister appearance, and it filled Wil with dread.

With his scomp link still plugged in and piloting the ship, Bex gave a few beeps and spurts, snapping Wil's attention back inside the ship. He crouched down to quickly hide, afraid the droid had spotted him, but another voice filled the hold instead.

"You're too early," a gruff response sounded from the comm. "We're not due another shipment of tibanna for a few days. Your circuits must be fried."

Bex answered with an equally grouchy tone, angrily spouting a number of blips and whistles to express his displeasure. The other voice gave a low grumble as he sighed.

"No, don't send a report... Fine, you can land in the hangar, but you're on your own for offloading. Follow the schedule next time and maybe you won't have to do it all yourself."

Bex fired off an equally snappy retort as he closed the comm channel, landing the ship inside the station's hangar and powering it down within a few short minutes. Giving Phantom a brief look before he stood again, Wil watched as Bex unplugged himself from the console and rolled through the hold to the loading ramp that extended from the middle section of the ship. The droid seemed almost...hesitant to leave, his silver dome turning back and forth slightly as he studied and listened to the hangar outside intently. Wil held his breath to cotinue masking his presence until Bex finally rolled out into the hangar, albeit slowly. Wil glanced at Phantom again, pressing a finger to his lips to emphasize their ongoing need for stealth, before he, too, made his way out of the ship, carefully studying his new surroundings as he ducked around behind it.

Only a few small shuttles like the one they'd just landed in were scattered about the hangar, and a number of stacked cargo crates were the only other occupants Wil could see. So where had Bex gone so quickly? The main doors leading into the station hadn't opened or closed that he had heard, and there was no other movement within the hangar; what exactly was Bex up to?

A heavy, resounding _boom_ echoed about the hangar suddenly, and Wil couldn't help his curiosity. He edged himself around the ship's aft engines, keeping Phantom behind him, and at first he wasn't certain what exactly it was that he was watching. A repulsor sled was being loaded with crates, the loud noise a result of one being roughly stacked on top of another. More crates were being moved and settled onto the sled, loudly, by Bex himself, Wil was finally able to see, but either no one heard the commotion or no one cared. No alarms sounded, and no one came to investigate, even as Bex began to drive the sled towards the containment field. He sped faster and faster the closer he got to it - eventually screeching to a halt just in front of it, one robotic arm clutching the sled rail and sending the crates hurtling through the field into open space with their momentum. Their trajectory would quickly send them crashing to the surface of Rishi's moon, destroying them in a disatrous crash, but why? What was in those crates that Bex was so intent on getting rid of?

Wil watched the busy droid stack and similarly dispose of four more sleds full of crates, all without earning the attention of whoever it was that had cleared him to land at the station in the first place. The hangar had become dangerously empty, save for the other shuttles that remained, so Wil knew he would have fewer choices when he needed to hide. He continually kept an eye out for guards coming into the hangar from any direction, but he and Phantom and Bex remained its only occupants. Seemingly satisfied with his work, Bex paused a moment after sending the last sled into space, turning his dome in Wil's direction. Wil edged himself behind the ship they'd arrived in, concealing himself from Bex's ocular sensor for a long moment, until the droid finally seemed satisfied and rolled himself onwards into the station. He appeared to know where he was going, and again, a strange yet familiar sensation urged Wil to follow him.

He had to keep a healthy distance, though, as he chased the droid through the station's silent, empty corridors. Phantom's soft paw steps at his side were the only sounds he heard, heightening his anxiety as he gripped his blaster pistol even tighter in his hand. The further they wound through the station's maze of hallways, the more Wil began to notice a faint burning, ashy smell in the air mixed with the sharp snap of ozone from some kind of electrical discharge. The smell both intensified and diminished as they continued, puzzling him. Bex eventually turned down one hall and suddenly fired off a rapid succession of excited chirps and whistles, apparently no longer concerned that he was giving his position away...

"I know those beeps," a rough, weak male voice responded through Bex's ongoing happy chatter. "Bex, buddy... Glad to see you. Perfect timing."

The voice was...incredibly familiar, stopping Wil in his place, but he couldn't determine why. He could only listen intently from his position around the corner.

"Did you...did you dispose of those crates? Like I asked?" Bex beeped in affirmation. "Everything out of the hangar?" Another yes. "Good. I don't think that's all of them...but that's a good start. We can work on getting the rest on our way out."

Bex whirred and chirped some more, but the man's response was halted by pained grunts and moans as he breathed in choked spurts to endure some kind of agony. Bex whined as the man recovered.

"Yeah... I'm okay, buddy. Don't worry." He caught his breath a moment more before continuing. "You brought Wil with you, right?"

Wil's heart dropped to his stomach. Had he heard his name correctly? How did he know? Had he not been as stealthy as he'd thought?

Bex sounded just as bewildered, though, but the man simply gave a light laugh. "Yes, you did bring him. You were supposed to. He was supposed to follow you." Another round of confused beeps from Bex went unanswered. "It's alright, Wil," the man called to him instead. "You can come over here."

Against his better judgment, Wil released a slow breath as he stepped around the corner, bringing his blaster up before him as a precaution. Phantom moved closely against his ankle, her eyes sharply focused, her muscles tense and prepared to pounce to his defense, but...he only saw Bex in the hallway ahead? Where was the man he had heard?

Bex spun his dome to look at a containment field along the corridor. There were three fields separating small cells that Wil saw, and cautiously stepping closer, he looked in the one Bex was closest to and met the most familiar eyes gazing up at him...

The man hadn't even fully picked himself up from the floor, clearly weakened and injured by something before Wil had arrived, but he gave Wil a small comforting smile all the same. "It's good that you're cautious," he nodded to approve of Wil's weapon, "but it's okay. I'm your cousin, Max Redgrave."

Wil stared blankly. He knew Max was telling the truth, having already recognized the family resemblance in their shared eyes, but Wil was certain that he knew the Sheridan's voice before he'd even seen his face. How was that even possible?

"Bex told me you had some...memory loss after you'd been injured on Dantooine," Max began, eager to remedy Wil's confusion. "You and I have been talking for...several months now. I just never told you who I was. I knew that you and your father had been looking for me, so I approached you as a neutral informant and fed you small leads...just enough to keep you at a safe distance."

Breathless, Wil swallowed a dry lump in his throat. A connection to his father's family, a bridge Wil had been so desperate to build to win back his father's favor...had been stringing him along and intentionally blocking him from doing so. The memories of their frequent correspondence returned to him in a flood, bringing back the ongoing feelings of failure and fruitless effort and fear of disappointing his father further, briefly drowning him. After a moment, though, one clear image surfaced in his mind and held his attention. He saw the sudden instruction he'd gotten to save his sister and the coordinates of her location...and the message had come from the same familiar sender.

"...you're the one who warned me to protect Jewel."

Max nodded weakly. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you fast enough. I didn't mean for you to - - " Cut off by an extreme and sudden pain, Max's body collapsed and contracted, curling him up on his side as something tightened his muscles mercilessly. He struggled to breathe for several seconds, but the episode released him just as quickly, leaving him breathless. Worried, Wil holstered his blaster at his side and punched at the cell's control panel to lower the containment field. He stepped inside and knelt in front of his cousin, eager to assess him.

"Max? What is it, what's wrong?"

Shakily sitting up with Wil's assistance, Max shook his head. "It's alright, it's just...something leftover from whatever Azira did to me. It's actually getting better."

Wil could hardly breathe himself. " _Azira_? You were captured by a Huxnel operative?"

"Not just any operative...she was an admiral, and she's had it out for your dad for a while. She has him and Master Natiyr here, too."

"Where? Where are they!"

Max shook his head. "I'm not sure. She might have taken your dad to the same place she had me, one of her interrogation chambers." He looked up at Bex who was dutifully keeping watch in the hall. "Do you still have that map of this place, Bex?"

Bex gave a swift whistle as he rolled forward and projected a detailed map in the air before them. Max pointed quickly to a row of rooms not far from where they currently sat. "There. Just be careful, she'll have a few guards with her if she's actively...interrogating him. Bex, you go with him to get Horatio. I'll find Master Natiyr, and we'll meet back in the hangar. Okay?"

Though Wil wanted nothing more than to leave to find his father immediately, he couldn't help but feel that splitting up wasn't their best course of action, especially considering Max's obviously poor physical state. "What about you? How are you going to find your way around?"

Max pulled his sleeve up to reveal a wrist comm hidden on his arm. "Azira's guards weren't too thorough. I've got a map on here, too, and I can communicate to you through Bex, and vice versa."

"You should still have some help with you, too," Wil countered, releasing a slow breath. "Phantom," he addressed his furry companion, "go with Max. You take good care of him, and Master Natiyr."

Stepping up to accept her new assignment, Phantom brushed her body against Max's leg before she sat beside him, alert and prepared for the next phase of the rescue op. Max smiled appreciatively at his new helper, nodding as he stood with Wil's aid.

"Wil," Max warned before they parted, still gripping Wil's arm with surprising strength. "...stay as far away as you can from _anyone_ with a blaster rifle here. Azira has modified the bolts to fire a dangerous explosive charge, and you don't want to be anywhere near them when they detonate. I had Bex destroy the crates that were ready for shipment in the hangar, but she'll have more." He paused, his voice strained and weak. "She's not afraid to use them, even inside her own station... She already killed my brother with one as a demonstration. So get to your father, _quickly_ , then get down to the hangar so we can get out of here. I won't be far behind you with Master Natiyr."

Nodding with solemn understanding, Wil agreed, pulling his blaster back out of its holster as he turned with Bex. "May the Force be with us."

"We'll definitely take all the help we can get."


	18. Chapter 18

He was less than a dozen steps down the hall from where Wil and Max had parted ways, and Wil already knew he and his droid companion Bex were headed in the right direction. Pained, agonized, familiar screams echoed through the station's barren corridors, becoming louder and clearer the further they trekked, but Wil didn't think he could stomach it much longer. His father was being tortured, extensively, as Max had predicted, painfully wrenching his chest in a tight, anguished grip. How desperately he wanted to charge ahead and blast his way through his father's captors, sparing him further pain, but...doing that would certainly raise alarms and would risk Master Natiyr's safety, too, wherever she was being held. He had to be patient, then, calling on his last reserves of focus and willpower to keep him alert and on task.

Bex rounded each corner they came to first, carefully scanning ahead for any unexpected guards or obstacles, but each hall in the sprawling station was just as empty as the last. He couldn't afford to lower his guard at all, though, having gone into this rescue completely blind and unprepared. Bex had a navigational map stored in his circuits that he was using to direct them toward Horatio, but it wouldn't warn them of any oncoming hostiles, and it didn't tell him much about the station beyond its basic structure. What kind of security systems did it have? Was there an integrated containment response? If any escape pods still remained in the century-old station, would they even work? So many unknowns put him on edge, but still he forged ahead with a firm hold on his raised blaster, hoping the Force was on their side. It hadn't steered him wrong yet, and perhaps it alone was the reason he had survived his grievous injury just days ago, a wound that had worried even an incredibly experienced Master Healer...

Finally hearing clear voices ahead, Wil slowed to a halt as his father's cries diminished into weak, desperate gasps when the torture paused, and thankfully Bex, too, stopped at his side without a command. An old, raspy female voice floated above the sound of crackling electricity on standby, faint at first but stronger the longer she went unanswered.

"It _is_ only fair, Horatio," the woman challenged him. "You took my future from me...so it's my turn to take yours. You will tell me. Eventually. To make the pain stop."

The woman's threat sent shards of ice through Wil's veins as his chest tightened even more. She was torturing his father to make him tell her where his children were?

Horatio's voice was very nearly broken, interrupted by pained breaths. "Do whatever you want...to me... I don't care. I deserve it. But I will never... _never_ tell you...where they are."

Carefully closing the distance between himself and the voices, Wil peered around another corner and found the hall that Max had pointed out to him earlier, somewhat surprised that the door to the interrogation room had been left completely open to the rest of the complex. It was a show for all to hear.

"Well, this isn't any fun if you actually _enjoy_ it," she sighed. "But no matter. Even if you do outlast my punishment, I'll get the information I need from the Guild. I do have control of their network, now that I possess the Guildmaster's commlink. So it'll only be a matter of time either way." She paused, but just briefly. "Again."

Wil hardly had the chance to brace himself for the scream that pierced his ears and tore at him as the sound of the electric shocks ramped up, physically affecting him as though he were experiencing his father's torture alongside him. He had once before endured far worse himself at the hands of a deranged Dark Jedi, and though long and deeply buried, the memories of that encounter began to surface. He even heard the old woman's terrible laughter over the crackling bolts of energy, and it mercilessly paralyzed him in place with fear and unbearable pain, unable to think or move or breathe...

...until Bex rolled out from behind him and into the room, instantly snapping Wil out of his state. Alarmed, he desperately reached out for the droid to stop him, but Bex disappeared inside just as the electricity cut off, leaving Horatio breathless as he struggled to recover. Hopefully all attention remained on their defeated captive, leaving an orange-paneled astromech unnoticed in the room's periphery and Wil just outside, exposed in the hall. Had the droid come up with some kind of crazy plan?

An important beep echoed about the room, preceding a frantic transmission. "Admiral Azira, the crates that were in the main hangar, ready for transport... They're _gone."_

"Gone? What do you mean, gone? They haven't been sent out yet. Those crates are going to the Guild."

"They must have been taken by another hauler by mistake, then. There's nothing left in the hangar."

"No ship should have arrived or left in the past rotation."

A tense, telling silence stretched on... "Ankru cleared a tibanna shipment to offload about two hours ago."

Even from outside the room, Wil could hear Azira's fists clenching with fury. "Search _every_ ship in that hangar. And increase the number of guards on the Jedi. No one is getting off my station, _no one._ "

"Right away, Admiral."

Wil's pulse was racing and pounding in his ears. Their escape had just become _exponentially_ more difficult.

"I'll be back to finish with you," Azira addressed Horatio tersely. "Whoever's come to rescue you or to steal from me...they've made their last mistake."

Horatio could hardly be heard. "No one...would come for me..."

Azira scoffed as she walked away, nearing Wil in the hallway. "We'll see about that. Keep at it, Qrof, until he can't scream anymore."

Panicked, Wil managed to turn and duck into a dark alcove in the room next door. He was only just able to evade Azira's and her Trandoshan lieutenant's gazes as they marched with purpose towards the hangar, leaving Horatio's torture to continue behind them. His father's agony resumed, but Wil _had_ to intervene, now, somehow; he could hear that Horatio was running out of time. Watching the hall for a long moment to be sure Azira wouldn't return, Wil pressed his body against the room's exterior wall, slowly edging his gaze around the entry to finally look into the room, and it appeared just as he imagined it would.

Horatio was secured to an angled, upright durasteel table in the center of the room, restraints at his wrists, his waist, and his ankles. Blue-white electric bolts continued to sadistically dance across Horatio's body from two spindly probes positioned just centimeters above his chest, twisting and contracting his muscles as they delivered their intended damage. His torturer Qrof, a brutally scarred Ithorian, stood at the controls with his back to the doorway, making only slow, lumbering movements as he powered down the probes for a lengthy minute of respite. Wil held his breath, watching the strength leave his father with each struggling gasp, and the elder Sheridan even seemed to lose consciousness as his body began to shut down. Qrof noticed his slump, too, and moved to resume the torture, reaching up to the controls without urgency.

A moment of desperate spontaneity gripped Wil, his heart suddenly daring him to launch himself at the Ithorian. Could he wrestle and quickly defeat the larger alien before he could injure his father further? Just days ago, he'd very nearly beaten a skilled hunter in the pitch black of night, armed with nothing but his bare hands and a fierce determination to protect his sister. A painfully slow opponent he'd caught by surprise would be even less of a challenge, right? So why wouldn't his legs carry him forward?

Qrof's long fingers pressed the button, but instead of a flurry of electricity firing up...nothing happened. Briefly stunned himself, Qrof pressed it again, and again, adjusted the controls a handful of times, all to no avail. Something had disabled the system, and searching for answers, too, Wil looked all about - and spotted the culprit in the far, darkened corner of the room. Bex had somehow managed to make his way to an access panel along the wall without anyone noticing, turning his scomp link around to maintain control of the room. Bex's dome carefully swiveled to meet Wil's gaze a moment before he began to faintly turn it back and forth...was he directing Wil away?

Inexplicably understanding the droid's command, Wil backed out into the hall just as the door swept closed in his face. Despite his shock, he retreated to the same alcove just beside the room, hearing the door repeatedly open and close and open again at random intervals. Bex was making the room's wiring appear quite faulty; what a crafty little droid...

Qrof's voice modulator could be heard approaching the hall as the door continued to open and close. "Was there a power surge again? I've lost my controls up here."

"Production's been halted," an equally digital voice returned from a comm. "No surges from assembly. The topside generator is as old as this station, though. Maybe it's failing."

"Isn't that where Azira is keeping that Jedi?"

"Yeah, so?"

Bex held the doors wide open, allowing Qrof to finally build up the courage to cross the threshold into the hallway and leave the room. Once the Ithorian had stepped far enough away, Bex continued the random closing, sending him on without even looking back. "...I didn't sign up to die in this place. Azira can't handle all this. I'm out."

Qrof continued to argue with his commlink as he disappeared down the hallway, but Wil hardly waited a second longer once the Ithorian was out of earshot. He returned and stood before the sporadic doors, giving Bex inside an expectant look, and the droid opened and closed the doors one last time for good measure before leaving them wide open once more. He sprinted toward the center of the room, reaching a shaky hand up to his father's neck in search of a pulse. Only just able to find it when Horatio's head turned against his hand, the rush of relief he felt lasted a fleeting moment as he noticed how incredibly weak Horatio's breathing was, too. He had been completely drained by his torture, but Wil was no less determined to save him.

"Dad? Dad, can you hear me?" With his hand gently against the side of Horatio's face, he kept his father's gaze on him as his eyes slowly opened. "It's me... It's Wil. I'm right here."

They searched each other's eyes for a long moment, the silence broken only by Horatio's frail gasps. The last time they had seen each other, in the heavy midnight rainstorm outside Horatio's Dantooine home, they had both been bleeding out, each afraid of the other dying as they watched. So much pain and fear and regret in their gazes alone communicated what they couldn't say aloud to each other, but Horatio began to appear more alarmed as the seconds wore on.

"Wil," he breathed, faintly shaking his head. "No... _Go_..."

Unsure what he meant, Wil earnestly gripped his hand at his side. "Yeah, we're going to go. I'm going to get you out of here. Bex," he called to the droid still at the access panel, "can you release the restraints from there?"

But Horatio continued to deny him, somehow finding his strength. "No, you...you have to go. Leave me..." His voice broke with emotion a second time, though. "Don't let her see you, _she'll kill you_..."

Wil's chest tightened as he recognized his father's only concern. Even with the promise of freedom, he instead worried more for his son's safety rather than his own. "Dad... It's going to be okay. I'm here with Max, and Bex and Phantom, and when Max finds Master Natiyr, we'll all go home. Alright?"

"No, you have to go..."

"Dad," Wil spoke with emphasis on every word, meeting his gaze squarely, "...I'm not going anywhere without you. Not this time."

The full meaning of his words took time to sink in, but Horatio eventually relented, his head falling forward as his emotions overwhelmed him. He had left Wil behind months ago, intentionally relocating to Dantooine without him, and disaster had only followed them since. They were stronger together, Wil was desperate to make him realize, no matter how much trouble and pain Horatio thought he was sparing his son. They could help each other, and they needed each other, now more than ever, and maybe Horatio would finally understand that.

Without any fanfare, the restraints popped open at Bex's command, and Wil quickly pulled Horatio's arm across his shoulders, prepared to bear his full weight to begin their escape. Horatio hesitated to move much, his other hand finding his wounded side before he took small, shaky steps away from the torture table. Though his legs threatened to give out from under him, Wil leaned more of him onto his hip, taking his larger frame in stride. A deep, fiery pain slowly radiated through Wil's chest the more he strained with his father's weight, but he pushed through it with every step. He looked over at the droid in the corner, still attached to the access panel, and though he was about to beckon him to them, a sudden idea struck him.

"Bex, can you still control their systems?"

The droid answered with a positive, shrill whistle that Wil had to assume meant yes. "Lock down everything below the hangar. Give us, and Max and Master Natiyr, as clear of a path as you can. Can you do that?"

Bex fired off a string of beeps and chirps that was far more complex than a yes or no, leaving Wil at a disappointing loss. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're saying, buddy..."

"He said...Max already has Mand...in the hangar..."

Surprised, Wil glanced sideways at his father. "...you speak droid?"

Horatio managed to nod. "Had to learn... All the shipping...Liaa and I have been involved in...since we moved..."

Wil had to grin. At least something good had come out of all the struggles they'd faced.

"Wil," Horatio's strength had diminished again, "...I'm sorry...I'm so...so sorry...for everything..."

"I know," he gracefully accepted, meeting his father's gaze with meaning and a wan smile once more. Liaa had told him the apology was coming, but it still meant more to hear it from Horatio himself than Wil could say. "Come on," he tugged Horatio's arm more tightly around his shoulders. "Let's get you and Master Natiyr home."


	19. Chapter 19

The further they stumbled through the station's endless halls, the more Horatio's muscles began to seize and contract, belatedly protesting the lengthy agony they'd endured at Azira's hands. Every part of his body was smoldering, painfully building into a blazing inferno he could hardly tolerate. Wil was nearly bearing the entirety of his weight across his shoulders and his hip, but the young man was slowing, too. Unwilling to cause him further pain, Horatio stopped, somehow managing to lean himself back from Wil's hold to the wall behind them. Wil wasn't prepared for it, turning to desperately grasp at Horatio's jacket and plead with him as he helplessly sank to the floor.

"Dad! Dad, come on, we're _almost_ there... We're so close to the hangar, just a little further. Don't give up now." Bex rolled up beside Wil as he knelt in front of Horatio and gripped his shoulders to keep him upright, but all Horatio could see were his son's hazel eyes, almost exact mirrors of his own. Such compassion and care were so readily shining from them, the same earnest concern the boy's late mother had gazed at him with for weeks before he'd left her, and he found himself rendered breathless the longer he stared. His guilt hadn't affected him nearly enough back then to have kept him at her side, but now, with his son begging him to keep going when he couldn't...it was close to crushing him.

"...you shouldn't have come back for me."

Wil's brows knit even more tightly together with worry. "What? Why wouldn't I?"

Horatio's strength had left him; his body was forfeiting, too. "I don't deserve it," he breathed. "...I hurt you."

Understanding slowly rolled across Wil's face as he recognized his father's distress, tender pity eventually giving way to a fierce determination. Wil set his jaw, drawing in a controlled breath before he gathered the courage to respond.

"Listen," he began pointedly, tightening his grip at his father's shoulders for emphasis. "Yes...what you did hurt me. A lot. I was...confused, and _angry_ , for months. I didn't want to believe that you were capable of casting me aside so easily. That you cared more about the family you planned, the family you wanted...than me, the one you didn't. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to understand...you were trying to protect us. The less I knew, the safer I would be, in case something exactly like this happened. If I didn't know where you were, then I would be useless to anyone trying to find you.

"So...I let go of the anger, and the hurt, and I focused on what I could do to help instead. I tried to find Max for you, I just didn't know he had already found me." He paused briefly, meeting Horatio's gaze once more. "I _know_ how important family is to you. That's why I realized that you wouldn't have hurt me for no reason, without a larger concern. You are still my father...and I still love you. You apologized, and I believe you. _I forgive you_. So you _need_ to forgive yourself. You _have_ to. We...we are so much better together, as a team, than we are apart. You need me, just as much as I need you...especially now."

Moved with deep emotion, Horatio could hardly see through tear-filled eyes. His entire body shook with trembling spasms, a rightful penance for the horrible pain he'd caused his son. He'd never felt more unworthy of the forgiveness Wil so readily gave him, and he could only shake his head in return. "You don't need me..."

Emotional himself, Wil responded with a noticeable strain in his voice. _"Yes,_ I do... I need your help, and you're the only one I'll allow to give it."

Horatio let his head fall to his shoulder, no longer willing to hold his son's gaze. But undaunted, Wil continued.

"I need your help...so I can be a good father, too."

Unsure if he had heard Wil correctly, Horatio slowly turned his eyes back up to him. "...what?"

Wil let go of a tense breath that gave way to a weak smile, his shoulders sagging as though they'd just lost a tremendous burden they'd been holding. "My girlfriend, Embrey... She's...well, she's due in a few months. Twin girls."

Horatio could only stare in disbelief. So much had transpired in Wil's life over just a short six months...and Horatio knew almost nothing of it.

"I want you to be there," Wil continued to plead, "when they're born. As they're growing up. I want you, and Liaa and Jewel, to be there with us. Please, Dad... Let me save you."

The shock of Wil's news still hadn't entirely registered yet, but Horatio knew at the very least, he owed his son a response. He lifted a trembling hand up to Wil's shoulder, gripping it with the meager strength he could muster, before reaching further behind Wil's neck for the leverage to get back up onto his feet. Wil obliged and lifted him the rest of the way, bracing the elder Sheridan with an arm around his back. Satisfied that Horatio would be able to continue, Wil looked to Bex.

"Is our path to the hangar still clear, buddy?"

The orange astromech chirped and whistled a lengthy response, and Horatio struggled to translate in his haze. "He said there's...a lot of chatter. They know we've locked them out. We have to hurry."

With renewed energy, Wil sped up his pace, practically dragging Horatio alongside him. Horatio managed a few weak, stumbling steps, unable to force his legs to work as they should, but Wil pushed them both ahead without pause. The sharp sting of electricity and the smell of burned flesh in the air intensified the closer they drew to the hangar, heightening Horatio's anxiety; was Azira going to be waiting for them once they made it there?

Turning down another hall, they found one last blast door separating them from their awaiting escape. Bex rolled ahead of them and plugged into an access panel just beside it, beeping his findings.

"Just open the door, Bex!"

Bex complied with a short spurt and released from the panel as the door began to slowly open, putting away his scomp link in exchange for a charged shock arm. At least one of the three could defend themselves.

As they stole their way across the nearly vacant hangar, towards the familiar _Shadow Nova_ sitting exactly where the original four visitors had left it, Horatio began to notice just how...empty the hangar had become since he'd last been through. Where had all the cargo crates gone?

Wil seemed to read his mind with ease. "Bex's handiwork. He tossed them all out of the containment shield into space. They've probably made some nice craters on Rishi's surface by now."

"Wish I could have seen it."

Before Wil could respond, a sizable explosion from the hangar's opposite entrance immediately earned their attention. The smoke had hardly cleared from the decimated door when a strange blaster shot rang out, a specific sound Horatio had heard only once before, and it was headed straight for them.

Instinct took over without any thought; Horatio suddenly discovered strength he had thought long gone as he brought his hand up from his side and found Wil's chest, shoving him away, _hard,_ to save him from the blast. The charge exploded just a meter from Horatio's side, sending him into the air and to the durasteel floor with obliterated senses. Every function of his body had stopped, even his heart, as he suffered, but he had to know if Wil had been spared. As he lifted his head, his stunned lungs finally opened again, allowing him to desperately gasp as his heart restarted a frantic pattern. His vision was blurred by the hard blow his head had taken against the floor, but from his position on his side, he could see he'd landed close to the _Shadow Nova_ , and one lone figure floated down the extended loading ramp...

"Azira!" Mand's voice called to their enemy across the hangar. Mand's hand was extended toward them, but her entire body trembled as she stood, as though she hadn't the stamina to remain there for very long at all.

"You fire that weapon again," Mand continued intensely, "...I will block the charge before it leaves the barrel."

The fall of more than a dozen footsteps slowed to a halt at a generous distance, and Horatio heard a familiar, icy laugh echo about the cavernous hangar.

"You don't have the strength..."

Horatio would have thought the same of his former partner, as much as she wavered in place. Whatever torture he had endured from Azira, Mand's must have been increased tenfold to have weakened her so; he knew what horrors she had endured in the past, and what she had already endured on this mangled mission before they'd found themselves at Azira's mercy. Willing himself to his feet by sheer determination, he looked around for his son, feeling his heart stop again as he saw Wil crumpled on his side just before the loading ramp. The young man's face was twisted in agony as he clutched his chest, breathing in short spurts as his tooka Phantom paced in front of him, growling at Azira, but at least he was alive, for now.

Azira had a handful of her men around her, all armed with her modified blaster, intent on keeping Horatio from attending to his son. She sneered at him, daring him to make his move, but Mand instead earned her attention once more.

"And you don't have the courage to test me."

Azira's eyes narrowed in response as she appeared to weigh her options. She knew full well just how capable of a fighter Mand could be, but the Jedi Master had been so severely weakened, Horatio knew that even a crude blaster could defeat her at this moment. If Azira was brave enough to call Mand's bluff...none of them were leaving the station alive.

"Maybe I don't," Azira ceded, hoisting her blaster onto her shoulder with ease as she took a few cautious steps back. "But they do. They'll do whatever I tell them to."

Her guards all readied and aimed their blasters at Mand, emboldened by the odds that would be in their favor. Mand raised her other hand before her, as well, beads of sweat mixing with dried blood on her forehead as she surveyed the hostile group. She remained resolute, though, maintaining her stance despite her serious fatigue.

"We are leaving," she told them in an even tone. "Max, take Wil into the ship."

Trusting Mand's ability to protect them, Max quickly swept out to Wil's side, picking him up under his arms and carefully dragging him up the ramp as Phantom followed closely. Azira and her men stood idle, although at great offense to the old Huxnel admiral who had taken aim once Max and Wil disappeared. With his son safely inside and their situation becoming more dire, Horatio had to intervene somehow.

"Azira, let them go," he bargained. "You can keep me - "

"Horatio," Mand interrupted him. "Don't - "

"You've wanted me all these years - "

" _Horatio_ , get inside the ship. I _won't_ tell you again."

Azira's eyes narrowed at Horatio. "You cost me my life's work, _twice._ For that, I'll take your entire family. And I'll start with these three here." She addressed her men without hesitation. "Destroy the ship."

They all took aim at Mand first, though, and Horatio could only watch with horror as she closed her eyes in response. She took in and released a slow breath, drawing out the tense moments as she seemed to prepare herself for the oncoming assault...

...and without warning, her eyes shot wide open as a raging fury blazed within them. Her hands, still extended in front of her, suddenly clenched into tight fists, and each of the blaster barrels facing her instantly deformed and snapped, rendering them useless. She swept her arms to the side, and the Force ripped each blaster from the confused hands that held them, scattering them a dozen meters away. Within the span of an eternal, unbelievable second, their situation had completely reversed and they were free -

\- until Horatio heard another blast, and again, the galaxy stood still.

He had no chance of evading it a second time. He hadn't even thought to move, staring blankly as the charge accelerated on its way to him, for him, from another blaster Azira had hidden and fired. Something suddenly gripped him around his stomach and yanked him into the air, but...the charge hadn't yet detonated. He saw Mand's arms flow the same direction, sending him backwards into the ship, and just a moment later she swung one hand up, protecting herself from the charge...but she hadn't been fast enough.

Horatio landed against and slid up the ramp from her powerful Force throw, again watching a horror unfold. Mand's body absorbed the blast full on, slamming her to the durasteel without mercy. The _Shadow Nova_ roared to life an instant later, lifting off from the station's hangar as Horatio pulled himself from his stupor and brought Mand further inside the ship. A number of new explosions rang out, although they rumbled and echoed about from the other side of the hangar. The ship's ramp lifted and sealed as the explosions neared and exponentially intensified, and as rapidly as it had all happened, it was suddenly silent when the _Shadow Nova_ made the jump to hyperspace, leaving the nightmare of the Rishi station far behind.

Looking down at his former partner as the shock again wore off, Horatio stared in terror. The blast she had taken had torn a large, gaping hole in her chest, nearly exposing her heart. Again acting on reflex, he reached into the storage cabinets in the rear hold, rummaging through its contents in a panic. He found a lone canister of bacta and returned to her, his hands shaking horribly as he poured the healing liquid and held a cloth over her wound. Her gaze was fixed straight up at the ceiling, but he reassured her, anyway.

"You're gonna be okay, Kil. You'll be okay. I promise."

"Dad..."

Still clutching his chest, Wil had knelt beside him without his knowledge. He gripped Mand's limp, motionless wrist briefly before he returned to his father, breathless with grief. "Dad...she's gone."

Horatio stared at Wil, reality no longer registering. "But...we just need more bacta...more time..."

Wil shook his head with sorrow. "Dad..."

Looking back down at her as Wil delicately closed her eyes with his fingers, Horatio couldn't breathe. It wasn't real, was it? None of that had actually happened...it couldn't have. He was the one who'd been killed, and he was living hell.

"It was supposed to be me," Horatio mouthed, no strength behind his words as he sat back from her in complete defeat. "It was meant for me... It's my fault. It was supposed to be me."

He shut out all sight, all sound, even his son's gentle reassurances from beside him and Phantom's comforting nudges as the minutes wore on, locked in a surreal haze that wouldn't relinquish its hold on him. He'd known no pain like it before, and he even faintly hoped in his weakened state that it would claim him, too.

He deserved that much.


	20. Chapter 20

As the _Shadow Nova_ sped through hyperspace, Wil had carefully tried a dozen different ways to engage his father, but Horatio remained in the same motionless, blank state where he sat on the floor with the body of his former partner. It was a devastating loss, not just for the two Sheridan men who silently mourned side by side, but also for so many people Wil was close to. Though they were all half a galaxy away, he could feel their collective pain manifesting in his own chest, he realized, intensifying the wrenching, twisting agony that gripped his heart and worsened with each passing minute. Despite his own grief, though, he knew that his father needed his comfort the longer they sat together without a word, but could he ever get through to him?

"It wasn't your fault, Dad," Wil repeated gently, squeezing Horatio's shoulder to earn his focus. "She...she protected you. She protected all of us, so we could escape." He paused briefly in an effort quell the tremor in his voice. "...and it was her choice."

His father still refused to move, hardly even seeming to breathe with his gaze firmly locked on Mand's pallid, serene face. Wil almost wished for an angry outburst from him, a fiery fit of rage or woeful, bitter tears, at least _some_ kind of response he could actively counter or handle. Though they'd only just met each other eight years prior, Wil had never known Horatio to completely...shut down as he had, and it terrified him. The man had just been through more emotional turmoil and physical trauma in one week than most people face in their entire lives, and it appeared to have finally broken him. How could Wil help him recover? Nothing seemed to be working at the moment, not even Phantom's gentle nuzzling against his leg, but Wil wasn't going to give up. Maybe Horatio had been more severely injured in that blast that had separated them than he let on; he had been the closest to the explosion, having pushed Wil away from it. Could that explain his state of permanent shock?

Another deep chest pang gripped him, reminding him that he, too, had been wounded as they began their escape. He slowly stood from his father's side and gave his shoulder one last comforting grip before he stepped away, no longer surprised that Horatio didn't react. He weakly made his way towards his ship's cockpit where Max and Bex were tending to the controls, and his approach caught his cousin's attention. Even though he was just steps away, Max urgently leaped to his feet and met Wil, supporting him as his stamina waned.

"I thought I told you to lay down," Max warned with concern, looking him over, but Wil ignored him.

"We're headed for the Paneau facility, right? Where Liaa and Jewel are?"

Though irritated at his redirection, Max nodded. "Bex put in the calculations."

"How much longer until we get there?"

Bex helpfully chirped the answer from the cockpit's access panel he was still plugged into, allowing Max to remain focused on Wil. "About an hour. Which is how long I want you to be resting. I saw that blast you and your father took; I don't think you need to be up and around more than necessary until we get you checked out." Glancing over Wil's shoulder for the first time at Horatio and Mand behind him, Max's gaze lingered on the late Jedi Master, quieting his voice. "...she's really gone?"

Wil hardly had the strength to nod, but he could tell it distressed Max even more as he continued. "By the time Phantom and I had gotten to her in the station...she could barely move. Whatever Azira had done to her had almost killed her then. I don't know how she...how she fought them all the way she did. That...that blaster grab with the Force _was...incredible._ And then the damaged blasters set off a chain reaction that destroyed the station behind us as we left. Azira's entire operation brought down in one strike, thanks to her. She was an amazing fighter." Returning to Wil, Max let go of a shaky breath. "I'm sorry... I know you were close."

'Close' was a gross understatement, Wil thought to himself, his chest tightening again with further grief. "She was always so kind to me, so affectionate, sometimes even more so than my own family was. Like I was one of her own kids. She only told me a few years ago that she'd known who my father was since the day she met me. She'd seen his eyes in me. I was only two. She never treated me any differently - "

An intense, shearing pain suddenly tore through Wil's chest, stealing his breath as he doubled over and pressed his palm over his heart. Max was quick to steady him by his shoulders, already walking him back to the rear hold. "I _told_ you, you needed to lay down." Strangely, the pain seemed to dissipate the longer he remained hunched over, but he was beginning to worry as well. Something _was_ wrong...

"Here," Max said as he strapped a respirator over Wil's nose and mouth while Wil settled himself onto a bench recessed within the bulkhead. "I don't like how pale you've become."

The air that filled the mask was stale and cold, but thankfully it seemed to ease his pain and slow his breathing the more he concentrated on relaxing himself. He even began to feel somewhat...weightless, as if he were faintly floating. Max pressed his fingers against Wil's clammy neck and studied his pulse, frowning as he withdrew them a moment later. "And your heart rate is way too fast."

Wil shook his head to dismiss his cousin's concern. "The pain is getting better, though." His voice echoed so strangely within the respirator, almost as though someone else entirely was speaking through him. Having left his father's side, Phantom leaped up onto the bench, too, curling herself into a ball at his hip as she whined with worry. Wil meant to reach down to her and stroke her head to console her, but...none of his limbs responded to his commands. "...what's wrong with me?"

"Right now, I'm not sure. I know what happened to you on Dantooine, though. My brother told me he stabbed you."

Color drained from Wil's sight. "...your brother?" Another Sheridan had almost killed him?

"He's the one who took Jewel. I didn't know I was sending you into _his_ path..."

"But they..." His strength had all but left him. "...they patched me up...surgery before I left..."

"Well, then they missed something, or you reopened a hole that hadn't completely healed. Either way, you're going to need help, fast." Max stared a moment in deep thought before turning from him, heading towards the cockpit. "We'll be passing Sullust soon, if we haven't already. I'll redirect us - "

"No, Max," Wil stopped him with his desperate albeit weak plea. "Take me...to Rech..."

Only hesitating a moment as he considered Wil's request, Max eventually nodded. "I'll send a message ahead, let them know we're coming." He glanced one last time at Mand, his gaze lingering. "...do I tell them about her?"

Wil's eyelids closed heavily without his consent, taking his consciousness with them. "The Jedi...will already know..."

* * *

A raspy, gasping breath coupled with the whine of engines slowing out of hyperspace was enough of a catalyst to startle Horatio out of his stupor. He'd been in the same position for some time, sitting beside his deceased former partner on the floor since they'd left Rishi, but where were they now? The ship was slowing even more for a landing approach, and he had no idea what had transpired while he'd been so removed from reality. How much time had he lost?

Another labored breath earned his attention, bringing him to his feet as he recognized his son as its source. Somehow his legs carried him to Wil's side despite their weakness, and as he looked on the unconscious young man, Horatio could feel his heart breaking again. He was losing his son a third time.

"Wil..."

He earnestly gripped Wil's hand at his side, in disbelief at just how cool to the touch his skin was. Under a respirator, his breaths were desperate, haggard, and hardly coordinated as he struggled on every draw, distending the veins in his neck. At a loss for how to help his ailing son, Horatio reached up with his free hand and gently brushed Wil's hair back from his forehead, as if a comforting touch alone could calm him. Horatio's own breath caught in his chest as he felt his entire body trembling with crushing despair. He couldn't endure more loss; how could fate, on the same day, take from him the two people he needed most?

Though he continued to gasp, Wil's eyes partially opened and immediately found his father's. Wil even tightened his hand around Horatio's as they gazed at each other, an indescribable, emotional connection linking them through their distress. Against his will, a silent, bitter tear rolled down Horatio's scarred right cheek, but he felt none of its track. His pain was far too intense to process any other sensation.

" _You made me a promise_ ," Horatio weakly charged his son, his words only just audible. "... _I need you to take care of Jewel._ "

Understanding and fear flashed through Wil's eyes just a brief moment before they closed once more, drowning Horatio in deeper sorrow. The ship around him rocked with a rushed, rough landing, and it wasn't until the loading ramp whined as it lowered behind him that Horatio stepped back from his son. Wil's grip had completely weakened as he blacked out, and Horatio easily felt himself slipping back into his previous state. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, though he suddenly wanted nothing more than to run...

Leaving the _Shadow Nova_ in a low power state, Max wordlessly swept up behind him with urgency, carefully pulling and lifting Wil into his arms from the bench as he prepared to take the young man inside the station. Horatio didn't even have the presence of mind to help his nephew with his son, staring instead at Mand's body once more. Max hesitated a brief moment, noticing Horatio's focus, and managed to make him a heartfelt offer before stepping down the ramp with Wil.

"...I'll come back for her once I get Wil inside."

A group of medics met Max at the end of the ramp, already surrounding and assessing Wil as they all disappeared down the corridor connected to the hangar. Phantom anxiously bounded along on their heels, and Bex followed just behind the tooka after his owner. It left Horatio completely alone with only his thoughts that swirled through his head mercilessly, taunting him and blocking out everything, even the passage of time.

He felt nothing but intense fear and overwhelming pain. He should leave, his mind initially told him, he should disappear as quickly as he could and spare everyone he loved any further strife on his behalf. They would all blame him for Mand's death, as they rightfully should, and would they also punish him for it? Mand's husband Rech was still there overseeing Jewel's recovery, wasn't he? The entire facility was staffed by Paneau, and they wouldn't be able, nor would they even be willing, to counter a Jedi Master's grief-fueled assault. Horatio would put himself entirely at Rech's mercy, then, deciding instead to accept whatever fate the mourning widower had in store for him. He deserved the worst that Rech could inflict on him.

As he had said he would, Max eventually returned to the _Shadow Nova_ 's hold, studying Horatio a hesitant moment before speaking. "...they've taken Wil back to surgery. They said blood was leaking out around his heart, which compressed it and kept it from pumping very well. But he should be okay once they fix it again." He paused briefly before he slowly stepped closer, stooping to pick up Mand's body from the floor, but Horatio brought his hand up to stop him.

"No," he denied Max with surprising fervor, his jaw tense with anxiety. "...she's _my_ responsibility."

Though Max began to protest, seemingly worried for his uncle's condition, Horatio ignored him as he again knelt at Mand's side. His battered body painfully fought against every movement he made, yet at the same time he felt wholly numb, two conflicting states he didn't have the capacity or the desire to reconcile. Focused on her alone, he willed only delicate strength into his muscles as he tucked his arms under her shoulders and her knees, cradling her frame with such gentleness. He carefully lifted her and held her lifeless form against his chest, feeling her head coming to rest so lightly on his shoulder. Closer to her than he'd been in years, he finally noticed the elegant slivers of gray peeking through her long brown hair, the faint wrinkles along her forehead and at the corners of her eyes, and the numerous small scars scattered about her face that detailed a life lived in almost constant battle. The angry gash across her temple she'd earned just days before would have left a pronounced wound to heal, but perhaps she would have let it knit itself back together, allowing it to tell another silent story about the danger she'd faced head on and survived, but...she hadn't. And that was his fault.

His vision blurred with bitter tears as he rocked himself back on his heels and painfully stood, still securing her in his hold. His balance wavered only slightly as he began to walk with her, each step as excruciating as the last. He forced his pain to fuel him, though, to push him forward so he wouldn't retreat, marching on toward his impending punishment he was fully prepared to take. Max wordlessly led him into the facility from the hangar, passing more than a dozen Paneau who all looked as distraught as he expected. He met only sad, mournful gazes on their way to a small, dark room...where Rech Natiyr awaited them, alone.

The blind Jedi Master stood before a simple, empty bed, his scarred but uncovered eye gazing down at it with little expression. He gave no outward indication that he had heard Horatio enter, silent and motionless in his place until he finally spoke, and the restrained emotion in his voice was devastating to hear.

"Lay her down."


	21. Chapter 21

Horatio swallowed hard and hesitated just a brief moment before he complied with Rech's request, taking great care to lower Mand onto the bed without causing her further injury. It was an absurd gesture, he knew, but the bacta-soaked cloth he'd placed atop her chest completely concealed her grievous wound, making it appear that she was merely asleep. Part of him still believed she was, that she would awake at some point and berate him for his poorly planned attempt to distract Azira while they were about to escape. She would tell him how much of an idiot he was, how she'd had their captors under control just fine, and how he'd completely ruined it by needlessly offering himself as a sacrifice. He could even hear her voice perfectly in his head, a cruel reminder of just how much time they'd spent together over the years. In an oddly nostalgic way, he realized that he would miss her tirades directed at him the most.

The first movement the Jedi Master made was to extend his hand over his wife's body, his fingers noticeably trembling as he held them just above her torso. Did he need the Force to confirm to him that she was indeed gone?

"What...happened..."

Rech's pained question was simple enough, but how was Horatio supposed to answer it? Did Rech want someone to blame? Did he want every detail? Had Mand already told him through the Force, and Horatio's answer was a thinly veiled test?

He stammered, dumbly fumbling for words. "Rech... I... I'm..."

But the Master Healer suddenly erupted with agonized fury, making Horatio visibly flinch. _"What happened!"_

"Azira fired an explosive charge at us," he answered weakly, swallowing again, "...at me. Mand, she...she pulled me out of the way, so I wouldn't get hurt, and...she took the blast herself." He relived that moment again and again in his mind, his trembling worsening each time he saw the charge detonate before she could protect herself... "I didn't ask her to," he continued with even less strength, looking down at her. "I didn't _want_ her to. It was meant for me... _It should've been me._ "

Though his hand had fallen to find Mand's at her side on the bed, Rech still hadn't moved much from his stance as the silence between them stretched on. Half of his face had been viciously scarred some time ago, leaving him without his left eye and with a clouded, damaged right eye, so he was far more difficult to read than Horatio had anticipated. Despite being mostly sightless, his right eye still scanned over his wife's body with deepening sorrow, yet...he kept himself composed. No further outbursts, no tense movements, nothing. Horatio was on the verge of breaking down completely, his lungs paralyzed with grief and his legs threatening to buckle underneath him, but Mand's husband of more than thirty years remained so calm and controlled as he suffered through the most devastating loss of his life.

"...you're sure you weren't hurt?"

Stunned, Horatio simply stared, certain his fractured mind had fabricated Rech's question entirely. Why would Rech care in the _slightest_ if the man who had gotten his beloved wife killed had sustained any injuries or not? Had his grief already broken him, too?

"You probably don't remember," Rech continued weakly as he stepped around the bed, "...but I've healed you before."

Horatio warily backpedaled as Rech neared, his muscles tensing in anticipation of an attack, either physical or through the Force...but none came. The Master Healer stood in place just a step away from him, his hands relaxed and hanging freely at his sides as he continued. "After the Paneau had extracted you and Mand from that asteroid mine, hypothermic and severely hypoxic...you were at death's door. Though she needed my attention, too, Mand _begged_ me to save you, to heal you instead...and I very nearly refused. I still don't know what went on between you two during those long months that you were gone, but...in that moment, I made the decision to trust her. To believe that she cared for you and trusted you as a friend. So I healed you. If I hadn't...if I had let my jealousy, and anger, and confusion cloud my mind...then we would never have been gifted with your son Wil. Nor would we have gotten my sister Yhren back from the slavers that had taken her on Ord Mantell. Or my daughter Cordira, stolen from us by the maniac who had created her. So much of the past twenty years would have been so different had I hardened my heart against you...but the Force had other plans for you, for all of us.

"I can still feel a slight connection to every being I've ever healed, and that includes you. I can feel that you're in pain. The wound in your side is still mending, and you're concussed." Rech paused a brief moment, his eye slowly closing as he let go of a long breath and reached a hand up to Horatio's shoulder...

...but Horatio stepped back again, turning his shoulder just out of Rech's reach.

Rech's hand hovered in the air between them with all traces of his earlier trembling gone completely; he was seemingly still so intent on helping him. "Horatio...I'm not going to hurt you."

Almost entirely certain that he was hallucinating in his severe distress, Horatio shook his head, pained anger rising within him. "You should. I...I am the reason your wife is dead."

But Rech only answered with gentle compassion. "You're punishing yourself, when you have already suffered so much. Please...let me help you. She would want me to, just like she did all those years ago."

Backpedaling even more away from him, Horatio abruptly turned and left the room, his legs carrying him away faster than he could process. He had no clear direction, only intent on distancing himself as he heard Rech calling for him from down the hall. He turned down corridor after corridor, panic rising as his breathing accelerated and drove him further away. The faces he encountered looked on him with genuine concern, but he avoided them, moving on to the next hallway to find one empty. A small dark room opened to him as he passed it, and seeking its solitude, he stepped inside and sealed its door shut. He hoped no one would follow him.

The darkness inside was only a small comfort, and he fell back against the wall, gripping fistfuls of his own hair as his mind raced wildly out of control. He slid down the wall to the floor in such a panicked state, he was beginning to feel lightheaded, unable to calm himself. His fear and regret wanted him to keep running, to flee and never return, to disappear so no one else would ever get hurt because of him...

 _Don't leave..._

The quiet voice echoed so faintly, almost ethereally within the room, he wasn't sure what he had heard. It was...familiar, warm, full of care, but he was alone, wasn't he?

Releasing his hair from his hands, he slowly looked up to meet his company. Only Wil's pet tooka sat at attention just before him, carefully studying him with her head slightly tilted.

"Phantom..."

How had she gotten into the room? Had she already been in there when he thought he'd found it empty? To his surprise, the small, furry creature had a slight calming effect on him with their gazes locked, as though her mere presence somehow brought him...peace. But surely the tooka wasn't the one who had spoken; who, then, had he heard?

"You should be with Wil," he told her weakly, intending to send her away. "You...you take care of him." But she remained.

 _Don't leave._

The woman's voice was stronger the second time, and he recognized it right away, though he hadn't heard her in more than twenty-five years. It stole his breath with the realization that its only source, the companion Wil had been given as a gift not long before he and Horatio had met, was a conduit for the spirit of a woman he had loved deeply years ago.

His tears fell freely. " _Deilia_..."

Phantom bowed her head in silent acknowledgment, waiting a moment more before she slowly stepped toward him and sat closely at his side. She rested her head gently on his thigh, an affectionate gesture the tooka had long been fond of doing.

 _Don't leave,_ she repeated a third time. _Wil needs you_.

"I hurt him," Horatio breathed, his head leaned back against the wall behind him. "I hurt everyone..."

 _He loves you. Jewel loves you. Don't leave them._

Each new tear burned as they tracked down his face, his anger with himself darkening and sullying his thoughts. "I have to. They deserve better...so much better..."

 _Then_ **_be_** _better. I've always known you could be._

Feeling nothing but unworthy of her assurances, he closed his eyes tightly in an attempt to block her out. She had only known him at his worst, at his absolute lowest; she couldn't possibly have seen anything good in him back then.

A soft, warm touch caressed his cheek, instantly melting tension from his entire body as he longingly turned his head into the sensation. He knew it wasn't real, he knew that she wasn't actually there, but still he foolishly reached up to his face to feel her hand - and his eyes shot open the second his fingers brushed hers. Deilia Rys'tihn, though gone for years, was kneeling just in front of him, faintly glowing in the darkness, and he struggled to breathe. Was she a Force ghost? Or just a projection of his memory of her? Her sandy blonde hair was pulled to one side and cascading over her shoulder, and her calming brown eyes were so deeply locked with his. She wore the most compassionate expression on her face as she gazed at him, even lightly smiling at his dumbfounded reaction. Except for her hair, she looked just as she had the last time he had seen her aboard her ship, leaving her after they'd spent one beautiful, passionate night together...

"I know how much you're hurting," she whispered, brushing her thumb along his cheek to dry it. "I'm so sorry."

"I got Mand killed," he choked, breaking down into tears again. "I almost lost Wil, too. I can't stay..."

"It wasn't your fault..."

Mere moments from giving into his despair completely, he couldn't even find solace in her eyes. "I am...broken..."

Horatio closed his eyes once more as he felt Deilia cup the other side of his face, gently tilting his head down to place a tender kiss on his forehead. He breathed in her familiar smell, Paneau's native panna flowers, amazed that he could even recall the delicate fragrance after so many years away. Her gentle touch again eased his intense turmoil, and though it didn't entirely remedy his heartache, he could at least regain control of himself. His calmed breathing brought back a caring smile to her face as she continued, still stroking his face.

"You have two _beautiful_ children... Let them guide you. Let them mend you. You will be whole again. Take the time you need to recover, if you must, but don't leave them. They need you."

As exhaustion began to overtake him, Deilia's appearance began to fade into the darkness. He studied every facet, every curve of her kind face to commit it to new memory before she disappeared, and he spoke without restraint, afraid he'd never get the chance to tell her again.

"You were the best thing that had ever happened to me...and I left you."

She smiled faintly with understanding. "I knew it would be that way before it even started. Didn't stop me from falling in love with you."

His eyes closed heavily as a lifetime of regret fell upon him. "I wish...I wish you had been here with Wil..."

Her voice was nothing but a whisper once more.

 _I am always with him...and with you._

The room around him was completely dark again, and reminding him of her presence, Phantom affectionately rubbed her head along his arm to bring him back to the present. He stroked her down her back, earning a series of gentle purrs as they sat together and enjoyed each other's comfort. Deilia's words still rang so strongly in his mind, altering his immediate plans against his will. She was right; he couldn't leave Wil and Jewel, but he was currently in no fit state to be around his children. He needed time to process his loss, and hopefully they would understand that. He wouldn't be gone for long, he silently promised them, and he could only hope that Wil would forgive him a second time.

* * *

Awaking with a start, Wil gasped as he desperately reached out into the air.

"Dad!"

He had just seen his father hovering over him, his eyes full of sorrow and regret for a decision he'd made, a promise he'd reminded Wil of. His outstretched hand found nothing, he realized, slowly taking in his new surroundings as he winced and nursed a sore chest again.

"Wil! Take it easy, _please!_ You're just out of surgery!"

Seated just at his right side, Embrey clasped his hand and carefully brought it back down to the bed, watching him with extreme worry as she held tightly to his hand to comfort him. She was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in days, and he was nothing but grateful for her fidelity, but he had to leave her gaze and search the others who were gathered around him. Wyliaa stood just behind her with a gentle hand on Embrey's shoulder and a muted expression on her face, and Thaylan dutifully kept watch at the foot of his bed. To his left were his other covert agents Nevo, Aggas, and Jaka, and in the far corner stood his cousin Max, curious about his condition but wary of the others. All of his expected visitors had kept a faithful vigil beside him as he recovered again...except for one. His father was nowhere to be found, and the realization hit him hard.

"Dad left...didn't he?"


	22. Chapter 22

Embrey's deeply sympathetic expression was the most telling.

"I'm sorry, Wil," she sadly apologized for them all, squeezing his hand gently. "We tried to get him to stay..."

Liaa looked just as remorseful and hurt. "But 'e wouldn't listen...'e was too upset."

Of course he was upset, Wil mused angrily, frustrated that he hadn't been around to talk Horatio down himself. His father's longtime friend had died in front of him after protecting him from the blast, and knowing Horatio, he had completely internalized the blame. He used it as further proof that he was a danger to others and he needed to remove himself from their lives, just as he had done months before, leaving Wil behind as he moved away with Liaa and Jewel...

Defeated, Wil settled himself into the minimal comfort of his bed, completely ignoring the residual burning pain in his chest. It was becoming as constant a companion as his furry pet Phantom, although he noticed that she was absent from his company, as well. Hopefully she had secretly stowed away with his father when he left; if anyone needed a steadfast guardian at the moment, it was Horatio.

"We'll be heading home to Paneau in a few hours," Embrey earned his attention again as she brushed her fingers through his hair. "We wanted to be sure you were stable first."

Already weary of being confined to bed a second time, Wil put as much strength behind his response as he could. "I'll be fine, Em." He looked to Liaa behind Embrey, searching her face. "You're coming with us, right? You and Jewel?"

Liaa's expression lightened with promise. "...if we are allowed."

Wil's heart sank, recognizing her fear of rejection because of her association with his father. "Of course, you are. You and Jewel are always welcome on Paneau, I want you to know that. I'll always take care of you both."

Liaa smiled graciously, immensely relieved and appreciative of his offer as she nodded. He shared her levity, though only briefly, as he looked to the opposite side of the room. "And what about you, Max?"

Before his cousin had the chance to respond, Wil felt Embrey's grip on his hand tighten with anxiety. He returned to her and met her infuriated gaze, and the sudden, dark shift in her voice was jarring.

" _Wil_."

"...he's family, Em."

Her eyes widened even further in alarm. "Family we know _nothing_ about! He told us his brother, _another Sheridan,_ was the one who took Jewel, the one who tried to kill you on Dantooine!"

Stealing a quick glance at Max who appeared unaffected by their open discussion about him and remained calmly in his place in the far corner, Wil lifted Embrey's hand and held it against his chest to implore her reason. "Max kept me alive, Em, just long enough to get me here." He saw no change in her expression, prompting him to plead further. "If he had wanted to kill me, he had ample opportunity to do so while we were on our way here. Dad was...broken... He couldn't have done anything to protect me or help me. But Max did everything he could to save my life with hardly any resources. I trust him."

But Embrey was unconvinced, strongly shaking her head. He looked to Thaylan and the other three covert agents for any sign of support, but he found the same resolve in them all, disappointing him immensely. They all had known just how important finding his cousins had been to him mere months earlier; now that one finally stood in their midst, though, they'd completely changed their minds against him?

"It's alright, Wil," Max soothed from the corner, waving off his concern. "They have every right to be cautious."

And of course, Max wouldn't fight for himself, either. Venting his frustration with a forced sigh that pained him, Wil returned to his girlfriend, his voice suddenly sounding tired and rough against his will. "Then at least let me talk to him... _alone_."

Embrey began to deny him a second time, but his exasperated expression seemed to earn her sympathy once more. With a furtive glance at the other covert agents, she let go of a slow breath as she stood from his side, releasing his hand with a gentle squeeze. The covert agents all filed out reluctantly but wordlessly, Thaylan most especially so, but Embrey gripped her brother's arm and tugged him along behind Wyliaa.

"We'll be watching just outside."

Wil waited until the door swept closed behind them before returning to his cousin, inviting him to his side once he was certain they were alone. Max obliged, albeit slowly, keeping a watchful eye on the gazes locked on him from outside the room.

"I'm really sorry about that..."

But Max shook his head with a small smile. "Really, Wil, it's okay. It's good that they're so protective of you."

"Doesn't give them an excuse to be rude. Especially when you're standing right there."

"Like she said, they don't know me. I haven't earned their trust yet, so I understand why they're wary. It doesn't upset me. Besides," he paused, his voice becoming briefly weak as he crossed his arms over his chest. "...I know I don't belong on Paneau."

Wil furrowed his brows. "You sound like my dad."

Max shrugged casually. "We both have our reasons. Mine don't really have anything to do with me, but...I've come to terms with it."

Curious, Wil wordlessly sought an explanation, though he refrained from demanding it. Thankfully Max answered without appearing too bothered by it, even seeming somewhat eager to share. "I'm a Redgrave, and it's...not widely known the connection my father had to Paneau and to his younger brother. Joshua was a good man. Honorable. A highly decorated, respected pilot for the New Republic. So I stayed away because I didn't want my presence on Paneau to...dredge up that connection and tarnish Joshua's standing for his family. They'd already suffered enough, losing him the way they did, so I didn't want to be the reason they suffered even more. I kept an eye on things, on you and the Redgraves...but I kept my distance, too."

With everything Wil had learned over the past few years about Max's father, a brutal, sadistic crime lord operating a spice empire in the Outer Rim, Wil wasn't exactly expecting his cousin to be so...genuinely wise and kind-natured. Perhaps that had also fed into why Max had so staunchly hidden his identity from Wil as they had conversed for months; as he'd said, Max was plenty well aware of his father's reputation and knew how much bias he would face because of it, so he buffered himself as much as possible. The two cousins weren't so dissimilar; it was a feeling with which Wil was also intimately familiar.

But to Wil, Max had proven himself a worthy ally in the short few hours since they'd met on that Rishi station. Max had endured some kind of awful torture at Azira's hands, just as Mand and Horatio had, and yet he had remained willing to help the Sheridans and the Jedi Master escape. How easily he could have left the three of them behind after Wil had freed him, but he stayed true to his word and rescued Mand as he had said he would. Even though Mand ended up making the ultimate sacrifice for them, without Max's help none of them would have survived at all.

Looking Max over as he suddenly remembered the sporadic pain that gripped him while inside his cell, Wil couldn't ask him fast enough. "Are you okay? Have the medics seen you? Did they treat you?"

Max lifted his hand to calm Wil's frantic questions, a soft laugh escaping him. "Yes, yes, they treated me. The medics found some kind of...electrodes embedded in my muscles. It's what made them seize and contract the way they did. Part of Azira's wide variety of interrogation tools I was lucky enough to take with me. But yes, the medics scanned me, found them all, and removed them, all before they'd even finished your surgery, and I haven't felt so much as a cramp since."

Relieved, Wil nodded. "I'm glad to hear that."

Max agreed with a nod, but his expression began to fall with the brief silence between them. He sighed, hesitant a moment before he continued on a solemn track. "...I'm sorry about your father, Wil."

Feeling another pang deep in his chest, Wil lifted his gaze to the ceiling, desperate to not choke himself with worry.

"They weren't exaggerating earlier," Max added softly. "They really tried everything they could think of to keep him here, everything short of chaining him to a bulkhead, but...it was like he didn't hear any of it. He didn't say anything, either, which...just made it worse when he left."

The words had already left his lips before he could stop them, and he instantly regretted it.

"Leaving is what he's best at."

Bitter tears burned fiercely at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to shed them, taking in and releasing a few slow breaths to calm himself. His sudden anger surprised him; he was truly concerned for his father's well-being, so why had he responded with such venom?

Max waited out Wil's fury with such patience. "...I know he has a terrible way of showing it, but your father cares _so_ much for you. Right before we landed here...he thought he was losing you, too. I think that, more than anything, was what finally broke him...he couldn't handle losing you both. After I had taken you inside, I came back and told him that you were going to be okay, but...it was like it was too late for him. I think he'd already given up.

"I know you're worried about him," Max softened his voice even more, "but you can't go after him. Not right now. They," he nodded toward the crowd watching them from the window, "aren't going to let you out of that bed for at least another week. Your heart needs more time to properly heal before you can become active again. I still have access to plenty of resources, though, so I should be able to find him."

Though he was appreciative of Max's offer, Wil still felt horrible for what he had said and what little he could do to help. He sighed with frustration, his gaze finding the ceiling once more. "I don't even know where to tell you to start looking. He'd want to go somewhere...familiar, to reset himself. To escape the pain. But everywhere familiar is just...more pain. Coruscant would only remind him of the first time he met his sister when they were kids. Malastare would only remind him of the last time he'd seen her alive before she died. Hoth, Corellia, Dantooine... He just escaped from one pain to the next. He was _always_ running. He needs somewhere that would be a safe haven, a respite from everything that's been hunting him, somewhere he thinks we wouldn't expect him to go..."

The answer came to him like a soft whisper in his ear from a voice that was as familiar as a long, distant, pleasant memory...

"...I need to talk to my brother."

* * *

Tired.

It was the only thought he could process.

Tired of running. Tired of hiding. Just completely and utterly tired.

He hadn't allowed his body to rest at all since he'd left his family behind, attempting to outrun his guilt and pain that was eating him alive. But everywhere he went, it followed him, unrelenting, until he realized he had nowhere else left to go...except back to her.

The passage of the past three days hadn't truly registered with him, save for the extreme exhaustion he felt having gone just as long without proper sleep or food. He'd managed to navigate and land his ship well enough, but the trek he'd begun through a dense, mountainous forest kept him locked in a foggy haze. His son's tooka had remained by his side as a faithful, careful guide, expertly leading him through the thick brush and preventing him from giving up though he'd tried a dozen times. She was just as stubborn as Deilia; she wouldn't let him.

The forest eventually gave way to a familiar open, grassy field at sunset, bordered by a tranquil lake and an even quieter building. Just eight years prior, he had stood on the open veranda, gazing out onto the very field he was crossing, and it looked just as picturesque as he remembered it. He had just learned that he was a father to an eighteen year old boy, a meeting that was both unexpected and unwanted at the time. But Wil's sincerity and honesty had won his hard-hearted father over the more time they spent together, and the boy's gentle insistence had even opened Horatio up to rekindling a connection with an old friend who would eventually become his partner and the mother of his daughter...

Even as Phantom brought him up to the main entrance that willingly opened for her, Horatio felt himself slowing. The purple panna flowers perfumed the entire walkway on either side of him where they spiraled up the archway columns, flooding him with memories of the months he'd spent there learning about what kind of person his son had become without him. About how to unconditionally love. About what it felt like to be loved.

Before he was even fully conscious of it, his feet had carried him well inside the building just on Phantom's heels, and after a maze of stairs and hallways, all completely empty and devoid of the bustling staff he remembered...he found himself face to face with Deilia once more.

The static holo, her pleasantly smiling face preserved for eternity, floated in a recessed alcove just before a wall adorned with fresh panna flowers and small memorial trinkets. The items were all sweet keepsakes, handmade gifts; maybe even Wil himself as a child had made the simple doll that rested against a delicately carved stone, or perhaps he'd brought the flowers week after week, keeping her memory alive as he grew older without her. The thought saddened him, but only for a short moment as he met the holo's gaze once more, recalling the warmth of her hand on his cheek when he'd encountered her just days ago...

Phantom affectionately brushed her body against his legs, bringing his attention to their fatigue in earnest. A simple bench was positioned just before the memorial, and Horatio lowered himself down onto it carefully, his muscles protesting their prolonged abuse. He felt like he could collapse at any second, but her eyes alone kept him upright. They were so full of life, of compassion, of determination, of everything he'd come to rely on during those dire weeks he'd spent in her care. One last question remained emblazoned in his mind, though, one he hadn't been able to answer as he'd searched for days for something redeemable within himself, and he had to know.

"...why did you save me?"

The holo remained silent and gave him no response, much to his dismay. Perhaps, he thought bitterly after a moment, it wasn't actually Deilia's answer to give. He wanted to ask the same of his former partner who had died protecting him, but she couldn't tell him, either. He was left with an empty feeling, a mystery that gnawed and chewed at his very core, preventing him from healing his damaged heart. How could he possibly move forward if no one could answer him?

Though he hadn't heard any approaching footsteps, a familiar, quiet voice gently broke through his thoughts.

"...Horatio?"

Startled to his feet, Horatio turned to face his visitor...but the rush of movement was too much for his frail body, and he collapsed to the floor just as quickly.


	23. Chapter 23

The peaceful rest he'd been denying himself for so long was welcome, comforting, and he easily allowed himself to drown in it...but something wasn't letting him stay. Something was pulling his mind out of the gentle darkness, back to the surface where he could no longer hide from his pain. His side ached and burned, his head throbbed, and though it trembled, he felt a heavy hand gripping his shoulder firmly. In his haze of denial, he was certain he was imagining it all, until he heard the same familiar voice call out to him from just beside him again.

"Horatio?"

He forced his eyes open despite their protest, blinking them into focus as he found a face closely hovering just above him. For a fleeting, wistful moment, he saw Deilia once more as he had just days ago, looking on him with her kind, caring eyes, her effortless smile...but his vision suddenly cleared, and it was her twin brother kneeling over him instead.

"...Koril."

The Paneau Royal had been a recluse for some time, Wil had told him, and though the two men were separated by less than a year in age, it appeared that profound grief, heartache, and long term health issues had substantially aged him. It had been a decade or two since Horatio had last seen him, but his sandy blond hair had nearly completely grayed, and his weary, sagging eyes looked almost...empty. Except for the faint concern he expressed for his nephew's father as Horatio continued to recover, Koril seemed more a shell of his former self than anything. Perhaps it was his dedication to his duty that kept him so controlled and contained; Horatio _had_ just gotten one of his closest, dearest friends killed, after all.

"...are you here to arrest me?"

A strange mixture of confused surprise filtered through Koril's expression as he considered Horatio's question, but it left Horatio equally perplexed. Why would he react like Horatio had proposed something so bizarrely outlandish? Why else would Koril be there, confronting him alone?

After a few moments, Koril slowly shook his head with soft understanding in his eyes. "No...I'm not going to arrest you."

Horatio had some difficulty believing what he had heard, until Koril lifted his hand from Horatio's shoulder and held it toward him, offering to help him sit up from the floor. Koril's hand shook noticeably as he silently waited, patiently outlasting Horatio's reluctance. Still expecting some kind of trap, Horatio took Koril's hand with a similarly shaky grip and carefully pulled himself upright, riding out the dizziness that again threatened to overtake him.

Once his eyes had regained clarity, Horatio looked about nervously, expecting to see a dozen Royal Guards surrounding them in the quiet halls of the Rys'tihn Retreat. The two men remained alone, however, accompanied only by Phantom who softly purred at his side as she watched him curiously. The only object out of place, a modest walking cane on the floor beside Koril, didn't stay there long; satisfied that Horatio would remain conscious, Koril picked it up and used it for leverage and balance as he weakly stood from his kneeling position. He seemed quite familiar and well practiced with its use, a notion that saddened Horatio a great deal. Koril was once a proud, skilled pilot who in his prime could have put even the likes of the famed Rogue Squadron to shame, but...he had become so frail, so breakable...he probably could no longer fly on his own.

Despite his feeble frame, Koril again offered Horatio his hand to bring him to his feet, as well. Horatio quickly declined, though, swallowing a hard lump in his throat as he instead elected to pull himself back up onto the bench he'd been sitting on before the arrival of his company. He felt himself swaying in place with the effort, but able to brace his upper body by gripping the bench's edge, he regained his balance and controlled his pain just as he felt Koril slowly lower beside him. It was a surreal moment, he recognized, seated next to a member of Wil's family he hadn't yet spoken to since that surprise revelation years ago...

"I _couldn't_ arrest you," Koril continued with a light, frank tone, bringing him back to the present, "even if I wanted to."

Unsure what Koril's admission meant, Horatio met his gaze with concern, only just noticing that the Rys'tihn wore no uniform as he always had. No deep purple or gold, no fine tunic...just a simple gray jacket over a loose off-white shirt and dark pants.

"Horatio, I haven't been High Commander for some time now. I resigned...after the death of my son."

Of course, Horatio realized, his eyes closing as he felt his heart wrenching with deep sympathy. Wil had told him years ago how much his cousin Derek Rys'tihn's death had affected them all and how much Koril had blamed himself for their unthinkable loss, but Horatio hadn't since thought much on how such an event might change one forever. It was no wonder he had become a mere shade of himself, almost unrecognizable as his pain had so dramatically transformed him over time. Like no one else he knew, then, Koril understood exactly the guilt and blame Horatio bore in the wake of Mand's death - for Koril himself had shouldered far worse for far, far longer.

"I'm sorry."

It was a grossly inadequate sentiment, he knew, but he could think of nothing more appropriate to say in that moment. Koril appeared unaffected, though, accepting Horatio's empathy with a gracious nod. They sat in mutual silence for several minutes, a wordless accord stretching between them that even Phantom didn't dare interrupt. Koril's hands gripping his cane in front of him eventually twisted around its shaft anxiously, and Horatio expected him to be preparing to leave. The Rys'tihn remained in place, though, his voice weak but still clear as he spoke.

"I'm glad that Phantom led you here."

Once more, Horatio was certain he hadn't heard him correctly. He struggled to formulate a response, much less put any strength into his words.

"...I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Well...your family is all here now." Koril paused, waiting to meet Horatio's gaze before he continued. "They brought Wil home once they got him stabilized, and Liaa and Jewel have been staying here, too. Jewel is...incredibly sweet. She's fitting in just fine here. She and Cordira's youngest are the same age, and they are getting along quite well, but...Jewel's still asked about you every day."

Moved with emotion, Horatio cast his gaze to the floor between his feet, holding his breath in a desperate bid to control his trembling. He failed, though, taking in and letting go of a shaky gasp before he could compose himself.

"I have made...so many mistakes," he confessed weakly, on the verge of breaking once more, "...I don't know how I can face her again. Or Wil... I can't ask for his forgiveness a second time."

The assurance in Koril's voice was both comforting and challenging. "Yes, you can. He already gave it once, and he'll give it again. They both will."

"...you don't know that."

Immediately, Horatio regretted his words, closing his eyes to avoid Koril's reaction. He had just deeply insulted one of the many Rys'tihns who had helped raise Wil in his parents' absence. Somehow Koril's tone remained so graciously calm in response to Horatio's slight.

"You forget...Wil grew up alongside my children after he came to us at two. I treated him as one of my own. It didn't take us long to learn just how incredibly _compassionate_ Wil had the capacity to be..." Koril let go of a long, slow breath. "...just like his mother."

Without intending to, Horatio's gaze lifted back up to Deilia's faint, beautiful holo before him. As he met her eyes, he found himself unable to control the tears that were returning to his.

"All those months I spent here in the Retreat, getting to know Wil after we'd first met...I couldn't bring myself to find this alcove. Wil had told me about it, but...I knew I didn't deserve to see her again." His voice broke as he choked. "She had saved my life, she had cared for me, for my wound, for so many weeks...and in return, I left her. It was the worst mistake of my life, the worst of many, and I have regretted it every day since... She deserved so much better.

"I know you won't believe me," he finished at a whisper, tears freely falling, "...but I didn't know she was pregnant when I left. And I... _I did love her_. It's why I couldn't stay."

The hall's silence was broken only by Horatio's weak gasping as he fought the release of his intense sorrow and heartbreak. Though it stretched on for several painful minutes, he felt Koril's hand on his shoulder once more, briefly startling him. The sympathy and understanding he met in Koril's gaze was a surprise, as well.

"You're wrong, Horatio," he breathed, his grip tightening the slightest bit. "I do believe you. I know you loved her. You wouldn't have let Wil in the way you did if you hadn't."

The Rys'tihn sitting beside him had known nothing but loss his entire life: his older brother had died just before he and Deilia had been born, his parents had perished in separate disasters on their homeworld in his young adulthood, his twin sister some years after that, and finally his oldest son nearly a decade ago. How much ongoing, internal torture he had to have endured, how profoundly crippling his pain must have been...yet he was the one offering Horatio the consolation and comfort he needed instead.

More vulnerable than he had ever allowed someone else to see him, Horatio felt the weight of exhaustion threatening to reduce him to the floor once more, and he couldn't be more lost.

"...I don't know what to do."

It was an admission he never could have imagined himself making aloud. But if anyone knew the desolation, the total shutdown he faced after losing so much and failing so completely, it was Koril.

Still gripping Horatio's shoulder, Koril breathed slowly, considering his thoughts a careful moment before answering.

"You've been given another chance. To make it better. To make it right. Not everyone gets that chance." His voice weakened as he met Horatio's gaze more squarely. "I will _never_ be able to ask my son for his forgiveness for what I did to him. I'm partially responsible for his death, and...I have to live with that for the rest of my life. But you...you've been given a gift. A daughter who loves you. A son who _survived,_ who worries about you constantly. As someone who has lost a great deal, I'm telling you...don't squander this. Keep moving forward, leaving your self-doubt behind. You'll never be perfect, none of us are, but you have to keep trying. Your children need you."

Hearing Deilia's delicate voice in Koril's final statement, Horatio hunched over and let his head fall forward as he breathed, still gripping the edge of the bench to keep himself upright. Koril's hand left his shoulder, but the Rys'tihn remained patiently at his side, waiting out his regained composure. Horatio was far from whole, that much was certain, but Koril had brought him a few important steps closer, helpful in the way a brother would be. Though Horatio and Deilia hadn't actually married, Koril was a brother-in-law of sorts to him through Wil, connecting him to more family than he'd ever had before. He couldn't have asked for a better environment for his son to grow up in, surrounded by his Rys'tihn cousins, his Natiyr friends...

Seeing Mand's now incomplete family in his mind stole his breath. Like Koril's, theirs was a loss Horatio could hardly comprehend, and though he couldn't bear to dwell on it, he had to know...

"...are the Natiyrs okay?"

Koril's silence beside him was deafening.

"They want to speak with you downstairs."

Expecting as much, Horatio managed to nod in a mild state of panic. He had frantically left the remote facility just after bringing Mand's body back to her husband, awaiting a violent, emotional release but only receiving a merciful healing offer instead. The Natiyrs would have been informed of his return to Paneau, just as Koril had been, so what did Mand's family have in store for him now?

His expression must not have hidden much of his inner turmoil from Koril.

"I can come with you..."

But Horatio shook his head. "No, it's alright. You've done plenty for me already." He released a shaky breath, looking up at Deilia's holo one last time. He closed his eyes briefly, searching for the last remnants of his strength to keep his tone sincere as he returned to his...friend. "...thank you, Koril. For everything."

Koril nodded faintly, sending Horatio on his way once he was certain his legs would cooperate and coordinate properly. Though silent for the entirety of their exchange, Phantom bounded along behind him, her fluffy tail happily swishing back and forth as she contentedly purred and sent its echo down the hall ahead of them. He still felt somewhat lightheaded thanks to the emotional exertion he'd just been through, but he continued on, glancing back only briefly to watch Koril's posture sag as he held tightly to his cane in front of him.


	24. Chapter 24

Though he hardly had the energy to spare, Horatio had been pacing the lounge he'd been directed to for what had felt like an hour, Phantom watching him calmly from her cozy, curled up perch atop a pillow. It was a modestly decorated room, bright and spacious with open windows and comfortable plush couches arranged about its periphery, though nowhere near as opulent as he would have expected a Royal home to be. As his mind raced while he waited for the Natiyrs, faint memories of the first time he'd been inside the Rys'tihn Retreat floated through his thoughts, back before he'd been introduced to his son, before his life had been completely altered...

Despite shutting out most of his senses in his daze, he heard a set of small footsteps rapidly approaching him, distracting him. The tiny feet were freely sprinting towards him, accompanied by mischievous giggling as a grinning five-year-old human girl came to a sliding stop just inside the room in front of him. Her brown hair that swayed behind her shimmered with hints of a vibrant copper, and she looked up at him with the kindest light brown eyes, her smile not diminishing at all in the presence of a total stranger. Her face was...almost familiar, like someone he'd known in a long forgotten dream, but he was fairly sure he'd never met her before.

"Hi," she beamed up at him, studying his face with innocent curiosity. "You look like you need a hug."

Before he could deny her, she swept up to him and wrapped her arms tightly, earnestly around his legs, freezing him in place. He didn't know how to respond, unwilling to move for fear of scaring her, but she didn't let go for a long, tender moment. Her refreshingly sweet nature reminded him so much of his own little Jewel whom he hadn't seen for almost two weeks...

The girl eventually stepped back from him, eagerly holding up a small flower in her hand for him to take. He hesitated briefly, only accepting the gift because of her unrelenting insistence, and he was unsure what to make of it. The petals were brilliantly white, almost sparkling, with streaks of red lining its inner, deeper core. Its shape and its familiar fragrance easily reminded him of the purple panna flowers that were featured in every room and grew abundantly on the grounds, but he could never recall seeing a white one.

"I saved this one," the girl told him proudly. "The white flowers are my favorite, even though they're supposed to be purple. The gardeners always cut them off the panna vines and throw them away, but I think they're special. I want you to have it."

Moved by her offer, Horatio lowered himself to one knee to be eye level with her, desperately searching her face for how he knew her. The girl's genuine smile was so disarming, so familiar...

"Amalia!"

That voice, he was certain he knew, locking his breath in his chest. It had echoed from far down the hall to them, once again enveloping him in memories he hadn't considered in years. He was so inwardly focused, he didn't even recognize the guilty look on the girl's face as the voice called out again, far closer this time.

"Amalia! Amalia, where are you?"

He had only just looked up to the doorway when she stepped through with urgency, entirely focused on the girl who had turned to face her. "Amalia - _there_ you are! What are you doing up here? Your father is waiting for you downstairs."

Amalia turned to Horatio, still smiling. "I made a friend."

Meeting Cordira Natiyr's gaze for the first time in eight years, Horatio slowly stood, swallowing an anxious lump in his throat. Save for her blazing red hair and gray eyes, she was an exact copy of his former partner in her thirties, a cruel window back in time to his past. It wasn't her fault she was a clone of her mother, of course, but it tortured him all the same. The small girl still beaming before him was Cordira's daughter, he suddenly realized, which was why he had recognized her, and his stomach sank even further to his feet; how was Cordira going to react to his presence, nevermind the fact that he had been talking to her little girl?

Cordira's expression was one of uncertainty, a dozen different emotions filtering through her slate gray eyes before she spoke again. "Horatio... It's good to see you."

Stunned, Horatio struggled to respond. His voice had all but left him. "You, too." Against his better judgment, he continued. "...you look good."

Cordira visibly relaxed as a gentle smile softened her features. Her delicate Coruscanti accent was almost comforting. "A far cry better than the last time you saw me, I'm sure."

"Easily."

After rescuing her from her captors on Myrkr eight years ago, Horatio had escaped with her just as her systems had begun to crash in earnest. He had taken her to the closest med center he could find, hoping he had been fast enough to save her, but he had been forced to leave before he had seen to her recovery. He knew she had eventually healed, but Wil had told him it had taken some time, and he had left Paneau in the interim. They hadn't crossed paths since, and he wasn't expecting such a...calm, casual reaction from her, especially after the deep pain he knew he'd caused her.

"I heard what happened to your daughter," she continued with care, tucking a stray strand of her fire red hair behind her ear. "I'm glad she's alright."

His heart caught in his throat. "Thanks to your mother."

Though he expected Cordira's expression to darken for daring to mention the woman he'd gotten killed just days ago, a sympathetic look overcame her instead. "She does have that knack, doesn't she... Finding people who are lost."

Horatio could no longer breathe, his eyes losing their focus. Why had she said it that way, using present tense? Mand was gone, and Cordira would have known that more acutely than anyone, having always had such a close connection to her mother in the Force. His heart ached intensely with each slowing beat. Was she still in denial herself?

"Horatio," Cordira earned his attention once more, "this is my daughter, Amalia." She stepped up behind the girl, gripping her shoulders. "Say hello."

Accustomed to being instructed in such a manner, Amalia smiled shyly and complied. "Hi, Mr. Horatio."

"Nice to meet you," he managed weakly, appreciative of Cordira's expert redirect. "Amalia... That's a beautiful name."

"...we've discovered that...it was my given name...when I was born."

The new breathless voice that floated into the room left Horatio entirely certain he was hallucinating as his heart came to a frenzied halt. Even as he watched his former partner slowly stepping into view, being carefully supported by her twin sister Adalia as her grievous wound still clearly ailed her, he didn't dare trust his eyes, either.

"Grandma!"

Amalia left her mother's hold and jumped over to Mand's side, sharing with her an equally enthusiastic hug. Both Mand and Adalia smiled as Mand weakly wrapped her arm around the girl, but it was Cordira's protest that stopped the older women.

"Mother, you should still be resting!"

"I'll be...alright, sweetheart," Mand countered with a gracious smile, righting herself with Adalia's help. "Horatio and I...need to talk... He has waited...long enough."

Her voice was so rough and raspy, she sounded as though she had to fight for every word, every breath, and she appeared just as weak. Still, she resolutely stood before him, meeting his gaze with meaningful sympathy and a wordless apology; she seemed to expect his state of shock.

Though she remained worried for her mother, Cordira ushered a reluctant Amalia away with soft, affectionate goodbyes, even giving Horatio a warm smile as she left with her daughter. Adalia slowly stepped with Mand over to a couch beneath a shaded window and eased her down onto it, ensuring she was comfortably situated and tolerating her semi-reclined position well before she, too, left and spoke to Horatio just as much as to her sister.

"I'll be just down the hall."

As Mand's eyes found Horatio again, he stared back blankly. He hadn't breathed, he hadn't moved from where he stood, too stunned and locked in a haze of disbelief to process much else. Nothing seemed real; it had to be a dream, he decided, for there was no other explanation. He had held Mand's lifeless body in his arms, he had carried her to her grieving husband, and he had mourned her death like no other loss in his life. She couldn't be sitting there, gasping every few moments as though she had to remind her damaged lungs to work. He had completely lost his mind.

"Horatio, please," she begged weakly, lightly patting the couch beside her, "...come sit."

Despite not being consciously in control of his movements, his legs complied with her request on their own and slowly brought him to her side. His gaze never left the floor in front of him as he lowered himself to the couch, firmly entrenched in his denial even as she reached over and gripped his hand in his lap. Just like his despair-filled encounter with the late Deilia Rys'tihn days ago, though...he knew she couldn't be real.

"I know you must have...a thousand questions," she breathed, "and I _will_ answer them, but first...I owe you an apology." She squeezed his hand with surprising strength, bringing his attention to her grip. Her touch had calmed his trembling as he felt a familiar warm sensation wash over his entire body, melting the painful tension he'd held onto for so long. She had used the Force on him before in response to his intense distress, and it felt exactly the same - peaceful, soothing, liberating. Though his mind continued to brutally counter and crush every fleeting wisp of hope he felt from his heart, he finally met her gaze, letting go of a choked breath.

"I am _so_ sorry...for what you've been through," she continued, deep regret saturating her rough voice. "I know you've thought me dead...these past few days. I didn't have time...to warn you, and you left before...before Rech recognized that he could bring me back." She paused briefly, a genuine smile warming her expression. "But...it was you who saved me, you know... You put that bacta...on my wounds...began the healing process...while I couldn't do any of it myself. Rech told me...that I wouldn't have survived without it. So _...thank you."_

Still unable to breathe, Horatio simply stared, watching the ragged, labored rise and fall of her damaged chest. In his mind, he still saw the burned muscles, the exposed bones...but again Mand's hold tightening around his hand brought him back to her.

"I'll be okay, Horatio," she soothed, aptly sensing his anxiety. "I still have some mending to do...and I may never be a hundred percent again, but... _I am still here_. And I am _grateful._ "

Her assumption had been correct - he _did_ have a thousand questions tearing through his mind as he finally, _finally_ accepted that she was really alive beside him, that she had survived her terrible injury he had watched her sustain, but...only one question pounded mercilessly at his heart. It bored through him, putting him in the same desolate, emotional state he'd tried to outrun for days...

"Why, Kil," he whispered, already shedding tears he couldn't control, "...why did you save me?"

Wholly unprepared for his question, Mand hardly breathed herself, studying his eyes with confusion. She seemed to be expecting an entirely different question from him altogether, but he needed the answer. He couldn't help the righteous anger that had returned to him in earnest.

"You _knew_ what that blast was going to do to you..."

Mand's gaze softened with understanding. "I did..."

"And you _knew_ that it was meant for _me_."

Her voice was even softer still. "I did..."

"Then why," he charged bitterly, _"why_ would you do that?"

Her eyes were so full of care and compassion. "... _for those very reasons_."

Unable to tolerate her gaze any longer, he stood from her side and stepped away with his back to her, wrapping his arms around his own chest to stifle his trembling that had returned with a vengeance. He could only listen to her explanation without also seeing her pitying expression, unwilling to let her see his painful breakdown as she spoke.

"Yes...I knew what the blast would do to me. But I also knew...what it would do to _you._ You were already wounded...weakened... Even if I had been standing...right beside you... I couldn't have brought you back from that. My healing skills are...limited at best. You wouldn't have survived. But I thought I might have had a chance, if I could deflect some of its energy...and what I couldn't deflect, I would absorb.

"But...I absorbed too much. I knew right away that the damage was...severe...so I put myself in a suspended state. A hibernation. It would slow the spread of tissue death...until I could be treated. So I appeared dead to everyone...even my husband. It tested his abilities to their limits, bringing me back, but...it worked. I have a durasteel plate now where my sternum used to be... The blast had obliterated it...but I can live with that.

"And yes," she continued, taking in a deep breath, "I also knew that it was meant for you. But I made a choice. No matter what happened to me...I wasn't going to let Jewel grow up without you. And I certainly wasn't going to let Wil...watch you die in front of him. He's been through enough already. You all have.

"I know you still don't believe me, but...Horatio... _you are family_. And this is what family does. We protect each other. I would do it all again...in a heartbeat...if I had to... I want you to know that. You _belong_ here... Stay."

His conflict ate through him. Though he wanted nothing more, to finally have a place to call home, where he knew his partner and his daughter would be safe...he realized it wasn't his decision to make.

"That's not up to me," he breathed, only partially turning back to her. "It's Wil's choice, not mine."

"...have you spoken to him?"

He shook his head weakly, his stamina worn away by his distress. He wasn't sure how much longer he could remain standing on his own, as weak as his turmoil had left him. She seemed to recognize his fatigue and lifted her hand toward him, calmly asking for him to return.

"Come...sit back down."

Again he obliged without thinking, taking up her hand once more as he settled himself into the couch. It seemed suddenly far more comfortable than he remembered, readily accepting his weary body. He even allowed his head to fall back as Phantom leaped up onto the arm rest beside him, being pulled under by a peaceful warmth he no longer had the strength to fight. Just next to him, Mand squeezed his hand again, her gentle, soothing voice sending him adrift...

 _Rest..._


	25. Chapter 25

_Author's note: Once again concluding a long, emotional narrative that finally wrapped up an arc my favorite character deserved, but hadn't achieved in the previous series. I'm pretty sure this is it, again, for all of these fine folks going forward, unless my muses decide to run me backwards. Who knows. Hope you enjoyed._

* * *

Waking as though he had been asleep for days, Horatio drew in a long, deep breath as he opened his eyes and immediately met Phantom's careful gaze hovering over him. She tilted her head curiously as he roused, her gentle nature and soft purring keeping him calm and focused on her as his senses slowly returned to him.

"Hey, girl."

At his greeting, Phantom tenderly rubbed her head against his cheek with a deeper purr, and he closed his eyes to savor the feeling. He chose to instead feel Deilia's gentle hand on his face as a bittersweet comfort, and even though he knew he was imagining it, her touch was...healing, lovingly soothing the painful scars he'd earned recently. Phantom's furry body was firmly perched atop his arm at his side, preventing him from petting her in return for her affection, but she hopped away once he began to move. He slowly sat up from where he'd been laying, surveying his silent surroundings that had completely changed while he'd been asleep.

Someone had comfortably settled him in bed in a small, dark room, which perplexed him. The last he remembered, he had been sitting beside his former partner in a lounge within the Rys'tihn Retreat, locked in a haze of denial as she had recounted to him how she'd nearly died just days earlier but had instead survived. She must have put him to sleep with the Force, an extremely easy task considering how intense his fatigue had become, but where had he been moved to? The room around him was only simply furnished, nothing immediately identifying, although it began to feel vaguely familiar the more he took in...

As he swung his legs off the side of the bed, he reached over with his right hand to pull his blanket off to the side, but he immediately froze, staring blankly at his hand. His grip was firm, and he felt no loss of strength, no impaired function, and no pain or swelling at all from his hand that had been broken for days. He processed the realization a moment longer before his other hand found his side, pressing just under his rib cage where a gaping, painful hole down to his spleen had once been, but it, too, found nothing. He was finally free of every physical pain that had plagued him since his worst nightmare had begun, and it left him breathless with both profound relief and guilt. He'd been nothing but a blundering, reckless, selfish fool at every turn...and they had still helped him, anyway.

"...they healed me."

Though he hadn't intended to speak his thoughts aloud, Phantom gave a positive _mrrow_ in response as she looked up at him, sitting just at his feet on the floor beside his bed. She held his gaze only briefly before she turned and playfully nipped at his leg, getting a mouthful of the bottom cuff of his light sleep pants. She tugged him forward, bringing him to his feet reluctantly as he tested his stamina and further studied his room.

Nothing noticeable stood out to him until he stepped across the floor and properly looked out its lone window, a flurry of memories returning to him in an instant. The room, his old room he'd lived in for weeks, was just a level above the Rys'tihn Retreat's private courtyard, overlooking its lush greenery, its finely carved stone benches and tables, and a soft, tranquil water fountain at its center. Eight years ago, he had spent countless days in that courtyard with Wil, slowly and carefully forging a relationship with his son to whom he had just been introduced. It had only been the two of them then, but he'd never seen so many people gathered in it before as he looked over its current occupants.

Cordira Natiyr, the first to draw his attention by her fire red hair, stood near the fountain as she casually spoke with his partner Wyliaa, and they both kept a watchful eye on their small girls that gleefully chased each other about the courtyard. Seated on a bench nearby, Mand Natiyr followed the girls' dizzying circles with a weak, yet perfectly content smile, her husband Rech standing behind her with firm hands on her shoulders. His eye was closed, presumably as he concentrated on healing her lingering wounds, but, he, too, appeared...happy. He didn't need his sight to hear the girls' squealing giggles, a sweet sound in which Horatio also easily lost himself for a few moments.

A group of three men and a young boy with brassy brown hair at the far periphery of the courtyard then earned Horatio's attention as Amalia and Jewel briefly stopped their chase just beside them. Horatio easily recognized his nephew Max, but he couldn't identify the other two talking to him. The small girls appeared to only be interested in the boy who couldn't be older than nine, but he waved them away, instead remaining engaged in the adults' conversation. Amalia and Jewel shrugged and returned to their mothers, but curious, Horatio kept his gaze on the boy. Like Amalia, his face stirred a distant familiarity in Horatio, and he was the proper age, too - the boy _had_ to be Amalia's brother, Cordira's son Jake who had been born months before Cordira's rescue. So did that mean he was standing beside his father Ethan and uncle Aiyden, and Max was meeting his Redgrave cousins for the first time?

Two new visitors to the courtyard swept inside from one of the side entrances, a pair of Jedi he quickly identified as Kyren and Kaylina Rys'tihn, Koril and Elena's two youngest. It didn't take them long to reach their intended target, and they both embraced their cousin Wil with earnest excitement at the same time while a dark and curly haired woman stood close beside them. Broad smiles spread across everyone present, all appreciating the Rys'tihns' emotional reunion. The two Jedi were often away from Paneau on assignments, Wil had told him some time ago, so it seemed that they had only just arrived home after finding out the troubles their cousin had been through, and they very plainly expressed their relief at his recovery.

In the far corner of his vision, Horatio caught a small movement that once more pulled his gaze to the other side of the courtyard. The only one of the fourteen looking up at his window, Mand waved her hand as she smiled up at him, beckoning him down to join them. His immediate reaction was to shake his head and deny her invitation; every occupant of that courtyard was perfectly happy as they were without him, pleasantly mingling with each other as close friends and family would. He didn't belong, he'd always told himself. He'd done nothing to deserve to share in that happiness...

...but as he glanced about at the others a long moment, he came to the profound realization that _he_ was the one person who had, in one way or another, brought them all together. Mand's grandchildren were Redgraves, indirectly related to him through his late sister's son Max. The Rys'tihns owed their existence to the multiple times that Horatio had saved their parents' lives before they'd been born. He'd rescued Cordira directly, as Deilia Rys'tihn had asked of him so many years ago. And his son Wil was connected to each of them, as well, on the verge of creating his own family and continuing a royal line for the Rys'tihns...

Briefly overwhelmed with emotion, he released a shaky breath as he looked down to his furry companion sitting just beside his feet. It was no coincidence that Phantom had loyally remained at his side as he recovered; she had channeled Deilia's spirit to him when he'd needed it most, after all, and she continued patiently supporting him simply with her presence. Even in death, Deilia still cared for him, just as she had all those weeks she'd tended to his dire wound that should have killed him. She had persisted, he had survived, and through their son, they remained connected, no matter how much he'd tried to deny it.

As he mentally prepared himself to accept Mand's invitation and face all the people down in the courtyard, he still wasn't certain he could do it alone.

"...will you stay with me?"

With a slow, graceful nod, Phantom agreed, curling her fluffy tail around his bare heel. Perhaps the playful tooka appeared to be merely a highly intelligent pet to everyone else, even to her owner Wil, but to Horatio...she was the embodiment of a love he hadn't earned but continued to receive, and he was only just beginning to accept it.

After searching his room and finding a wardrobe full of casual clothing and boots he easily fit into, he dressed and made the familiar trek down to the courtyard, again surprised he'd encountered no guards along his way. The wide door that separated the interior of the Retreat from its peaceful courtyard was closed, allowing him a few more moments to rein in his addled composure. Phantom eagerly bounced at his side, encouraging him to press the door's panel with a few excited trills, and though his hands noticeably shook, he hesitated only a moment more before the door swept open at his command.

Bright midday light flooded his vision and blinded him briefly, but it was the powerful panna flower fragrance billowing into his face from the courtyard that froze him in emotional memories where he stood. His vision recovered enough to see every gaze had turned to him, and it wasn't until he heard his daughter's voice that he finally moved forward, his knees buckling under him.

" _Daddy_!"

Leaving her friend's side, Jewel sprinted towards him, her short blue- and pink-speckled lekku nearly stretched straight out behind her with her speed. Her arms earnestly reached out for him as she ran, and he knelt down to scoop her up, no longer able to maintain his composure after feeling her tiny body trembling against him. Her intense hold around his neck only tightened as he stood up with her, and he wrapped his arms around her just as tightly.

"Daddy," she cried in his ear, "Daddy, I missed you so much!"

His strength had all but left him, rendering his voice nearly inaudible as he struggled to contain his own sobs. "I missed you more, my Precious Gem..."

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she gently cupped his face with her little hands, carefully searching his features. "Mommy said you were gone for so many days because you were hurt..."

Her quivering golden eyes were so full of concern and worry. For such a young, small girl, she was so genuinely emotive, and the thought nearly made him laugh through his tears; she certainly hadn't gotten that from him. "I was," he comforted her, gently rubbing her back. "But I'm all better now, I promise. My friends helped me. They took care of you, too, right? You and your mom?"

Though Jewel nodded, her lower lip still trembled. She may not have been conscious through her own kidnapping, but she was clearly struggling to process her anxiety in its aftermath.

"So...now that you're better," she continued, her voice so small and timid, "...do we have to leave again?"

He wanted nothing more than to tell her no and immediately quell her fears of being traumatically uprooted a second time...but he realized he couldn't without lying, and his heart fell to his feet. He couldn't even take in a breath to give her an answer or a response of any kind, too stunned to force his mind to work.

"No, we don't 'ave to leave, Jewel," Liaa answered her firmly, stepping up to Horatio's side. She gripped his hand at Jewel's back, sharing with him a meaningful gaze and a warm smile. "We're staying right 'ere."

Studying Liaa's face as he hadn't for some time, he was immensely relieved to see that her cuts and bruises from the blast in their home had completely healed in his absence. She seemed to follow his gaze and his train of thought, and it broadened her smile even more. She reached a hand up to caress his cheek, a soft, tender touch he hadn't expected from her after his rash, impulsive behavior had left her behind, not just once, but twice. He struggled to form words, desperate to manage some semblance of an apology, but she merely shook her head, still smiling with understanding.

"I know."

With Jewel gathered on his other hip, Liaa embraced them both tightly, lifting herself up onto her toes to kiss him sweetly. It was a moment he feared he'd never experience again after his many missteps and failings, so he reveled in it, pulling Liaa even more closely against him. As she leaned back from him briefly breathless, her smile returned though her voice had softened. " _I love you_."

His breath left him in a sudden rush as her words reached his ears, and for a short, fleeting second, he believed he had imagined it. She brought her hand up from his side and tugged on his neck, gingerly meeting her forehead to his to share another intimate moment. As her eyes closed, so did his, her touch renewing his strength to speak once more.

"I love you."

Another genuine smile brightened her entire face as she looked up at him and ran her fingers through his hair, admiring his gaze. He still had so much to apologize for and make up to her, but she was already moving to take Jewel from his hold, sending him to another task first.

"Go talk to 'im," she whispered, lifting Jewel onto her hip instead. He stroked one of Jewel's lekku as Liaa stepped away with her, leaving no one between him and his son on the opposite side of the now nearly emptied courtyard.

The cautious, pained expression on Wil's face was difficult to decipher, though not entirely the fault of distance. The dark skinned woman still stood closely beside Wil, and she, too, shared an equally wary look. He owed Wil yet another apology for leaving him again, but he feared his son may not forgive him again for the same transgression. Still, he took slow, careful steps towards the two, maintaining his gaze on Wil as Phantom stayed close on his heels. Wil's expression remained the same, much to Horatio's dismay, forcing him to choose his words with extreme care as he stood a few paces from him.

"...I know what you must think of me," he began weakly, his voice hardly loud enough to hear, "and you're right. I hurt you...a second time...after I'd just gotten you back. I've been selfish, and thoughtless, only focused on my own pain. You were trying to help me...and I ignored you. I have no excuse. You have every right to be furious with me, and I...I understand if you...if you want me to leave... You can - "

Before he could finish his thoughts, Wil suddenly lunged forward and threw his arms around Horatio, embracing his father in an earnest hug. In his shock, Horatio remained motionless, having expected an entirely different reaction altogether. Wil's hold even tightened as the tense silence continued, broken only by a soft sniffle and an even softer voice.

"I _knew_ she'd bring you back here..."

Deeply moved by the sincere relief in Wil's tone, Horatio returned his son's embrace as he broke down once more, dangerously close to relying on his hold as he felt his legs weakening underneath him. Wil had proven before that he could bear his father's weight, having dragged him halfway across a defunct refueling station as they made their escape from Azira, but Horatio couldn't put him through that again. He took a few shuffling steps to balance himself, but Wil refused to let go, and it only made Horatio weaker.

"...she wouldn't let me give up," he choked into Wil's shoulder. "I tried."

With a familiar, sweet _mrrow,_ Phantom wrapped herself between both of their legs, carefully weaving back and forth before finally sitting beside Horatio's heel. Wil leaned back from him slightly, still gripping his father's shoulders as he looked down at his faithful pet with a tearful, knowing grin. "Yeah, she's stubborn like that."

Horatio looked on his son properly, meeting his gaze with patent remorse for the turmoil he'd caused him a second time. "Wil, I am _sorry_..."

Wil only nodded with compassion. "You needed time. I know you were in so much pain... I just wish we could have spared you all those days alone." He paused with a slow breath to calm himself, vainly drying his face with the back of his hand. "I'm glad she was with you... She brought you home when you were ready."

Glancing down at the tooka proudly seated at his feet, Horatio struggled to find his voice again. "...you want me to stay?"

"Of _course_ I do, Dad," Wil answered, becoming emotional once more. "I already told you, I want you here, and nothing's changed that. I want Jewel and Liaa here, too. Please," he begged weakly, "... _stay_."

Though tears still freely fell from his eyes, he managed to nod as he pulled his son close for another earnest hug. Wil reciprocated for a long, tender moment, finding so much comfort in their heartfelt embrace. He stepped back from him after a few minutes, collected and composed with a small smile as he reached his hand behind himself. The young woman who had patiently waited out their conversation stepped forward at Wil's insistence, folding her hand with his as she stood closely beside him.

"Dad," Wil began with bated excitement, so eager to introduce the two, "...this is Embrey, my girlfriend."

But the gaze Horatio met from her was far less amiable than Wil's. She remained silent, holding an angry, calculating stare, and Horatio already understood the dynamic he'd have to overcome with her. He'd expect nothing less from his son's future wife.

He kept his tone so sincere. "...I have a lot of work to do to earn your trust, I know. I'll do whatever it takes."

Embrey maintained her stoic glare, showing no signs of accepting his promise, until... " _Don't_ hurt Wil again."

Horatio shook his head. "I don't intend to."

"I will protect my girls, too," she continued curtly, "even if, _especially_ if, it means protecting them from you."

Beside her, Wil protested her harshness. "Em..."

But Horatio waved his hand. "She's right, Wil. She'll keep me in check." Returning his gaze to Embrey, he shook his head again to accept her warning, glancing briefly at her swollen belly. "I won't interfere with them."

Embrey's eyes only softened the slightest bit with his assurances; at least it was a start. She seemed somewhat sensitive to Wil's wishes, but her stubbornness appeared to match her deep love for him, requiring a delicate balance. It was a stance he had seen once before in a relationship long gone, bringing a faint, peaceful swell to his heart...

Intent on keeping an ongoing dialogue, he looked between the two, desperate to know. "...what have you named them?"

Surprising him, Embrey was the first to answer, her voice far softer. "Rixia. Rix, or Rixie for short."

"And the other," Wil continued for her, watching Horatio's reaction closely, "...Deilia. Or Dee. They'll be Rys'tihns."

As Phantom affectionately brushed her body against his leg, reminding him of her presence, Horatio couldn't think of a more perfect pair of names for his granddaughters. He nodded, a small, genuine smile spreading across his face for the first time in years.

"...your mother would have loved that."


End file.
